


Common side effects

by notallballs (notallbees)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, Depression, M/M, Post-Canon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-18 05:22:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 77,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9369836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/pseuds/notallballs
Summary: It was Valentine's day. There was a convenience store three streets away from the apartment he grew up in, where someone had lovingly constructed a display of chocolate bars and paper hearts. Kuroo eyed it with half-hearted disdain.Kuroo Tetsurou is pushing thirty, recently single, and just moved back in with his mother. Struggling to reconnect with old friends, losing touch with his goals, Kuroo feels like his life is slipping backward, and he doesn't know how to fix it.A chance encounter with an old friend might just be the sign he's been waiting for, if he's smart enough to make the most of it





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Yaku shrugged again. "If you can't trust your friends to tell you the truth…"_
> 
> _"Yeah," Kuroo muttered, sinking in his seat. “I'm fine, don't worry about."_
> 
> _"You definitely seem fine," Yaku said._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to pussycat for the excellent beta :3

It was Valentine's day. There was a convenience store three streets away from the apartment he grew up in, where someone had lovingly constructed a display of chocolate bars and paper hearts. Kuroo eyed it with half-hearted disdain. 

His day had started with both good news and bad news, but he was still processing the good, so the bad was currently occupying most of his mental space. 

"Hey, Kuroo! What're you doing here?"

Kuroo glanced at the pack of beer in hand. "Uh, buying beer?" He looked up and met eyes with the shopkeeper, Nagase. They had been in the same class in junior high, but Nagase had dropped out of high school to work full time in his family's store. Kuroo could remember thinking that was kind of pathetic. 

"That's funny," Nagase said sincerely, reaching for Kuroo's purchases to ring them up. "What're you doing back in Tokyo? Didn't you move? Nagasaki or something?"

"Nagoya. Just visiting my mom," Kuroo said with a hollow smile. 

"Yeah? You married yet? Last I heard, you'd popped the question."

Kuroo's smile felt brittle and false. "Nah, we broke up."

"Sorry to hear it." Nagase passed over a carrier bag and took Kuroo's card. "You'll find someone else."

"Yeah." Kuroo felt that more was required. "You're married, aren't you?"

Nagase beamed as he handed back Kuroo's card. "Yup. Second kid on the way now." He set his hands on the counter proudly. He looked at home, surrounded by packets and tins of food, wearing an apron with the store's faded logo on it.

"Congratulations."

As Kuroo left, the door ringing behind him, he couldn’t help thinking that one of them was pathetic, and he wasn’t so sure it was Nagase anymore.

Yaku called him as he was walking home.

"Hey, Yakkun," Kuroo said fondly. 

"Tetsurou."

"How was your vacation?"

 _"Hot. We’re going out tonight,"_ Yaku said. _"You're not busy, are you?"_

Kuroo glanced at the carrier bag in his hand. "Well…"

 _"Good,"_ Yaku said, without waiting for him to finish that thought. _"I got invited to review a new restaurant, you're my date. Don't wear a tie."_

"I don't own a tie," Kuroo said in a deadpan voice. 

Yaku was unimpressed. _"What kind of high school teacher doesn't own a tie? Don't wear one just to piss me off."_

"I kind of have plans."

_"What's more important than dinner with your oldest friend? Getting drunk on your own because your mom is too busy to hang out with you?"_

"Ouch," Kuroo said flatly, ignoring the pang in his chest. "As if you're my oldest friend anyway."

 _"Ouch,"_ Yaku said sarcastically. _"I'll send you the address of the restaurant. Seven thirty."_

Kuroo sighed. "I'll be there."

_"Obviously."_

"Hey, guess what?"

_"Don't make me guess."_

Kuroo smirked; Yaku was delightfully easy to wind up. "I got a job. I'm staying in Tokyo, at least for now."

_"Congratulations. You can look after my cats next time I'm away."_

"My real goal all along," Kuroo said, grinning. The cats were Yaku's way of apologising. He adored his cats more than anything; trusting Kuroo with them was like entrusting him with his children. "See you tonight."

_"No tie."_

"Love you."

Yaku sighed, and hung up.

Kuroo owned at least two ties, but he seemed to have mislaid them in the move. It was just as well; Yaku would probably hit him for disobeying a direct order. Still, he would have to find or replace them before starting his new job. 

Luckily, Yaku didn't seem to notice or care what he was wearing, though he was less than impressed by Kuroo's job offer.

"Even for you, Tetsurou, that's pretty lame."

Kuroo feigned offence. "How could you, Yakkun?"

Yaku rolled his eyes and reached for his beer. 

"Not only will I be teaching at a _very_ prestigious institute of learning—"

"It’s not _that_ prestigious."

"But I also get to teach alongside one of the finest teachers of mathematics—"

"That's not a thing to boast about."

"Why? Just because it’s my mom—"

"Exactly because it’s your mom."

Kuroo sighed and almost kicked Yaku under the table, before thinking better of it. "Come on, Yakkun," he said instead. "Can't you be a little bit excited for me?"

"Be excited for yourself," Yaku said, taking a sip of his beer. He appeared to savour the mouthful, but then he made a face and put the glass down again. "Swap with me."

"Huh?" Kuroo looked up, bemused, but Yaku was already reaching over to grab his glass of beer. He pushed his own towards Kuroo with a significant look.

"I can't drink that, it tastes awful," Yaku confessed cheerfully. "Enjoy."

Kuroo took a sip. The beer wasn't that bad, but it _was_ a little acidic. "That's going in the review then, I take it?" 

Yaku shrugged.

They talked for a little while about work and friends, reminiscing about school. Kuroo realised they were both talking around his breakup with Akina, and was momentarily surprised, until Yaku sighed and said, "So are you done being a mess now then?"

Kuroo stared at him. "What?"

"You know," Yaku said, gesturing with his empty glass. "Getting dumped, moping around, crying on other people's couches—"

"Hey!" Kuroo protested weakly.

Yaku shrugged again. "If you can't trust your friends to tell you the truth…"

"Yeah," Kuroo muttered, sinking in his seat. "I'm fine, don't worry about it."

"You definitely seem fine," Yaku said. 

Kuroo was fairly sure Yaku was being sarcastic—though it was sometimes hard to tell with Yaku—but he was too tired to argue. He glanced across the restaurant and, for a moment, happened to catch the gaze of a woman sitting a few tables away. She looked painfully like Akina, and he quickly turned his gaze back to his empty plate. When he risked another glance, she had turned away.

Kuroo sighed. "Hey, Yakkun?"

"What."

"Have you ever had one of those moments," Kuroo began, already knowing it was hopeless. "Where you see someone, and you _know_."

Yaku gave him a flat look. "Know what?"

Kuroo returned the look. "You have no romance in your soul."

"Not for you, no," Yaku said, and took a pointed sip of his beer.

"Well, whatever." Kuroo lifted his hands again like a conductor. "I started, so I'll finish. One of those moments—"

"Ugh, Kuroo—"

"Where you see someone," Kuroo continued with determination. "And your eyes meet, just for a second, but you know—"

"Tell me this is going somewhere."

"And when you you turn back, the other person is looking back too?"

Yaku stared back at him, apparently expecting more. 

Kuroo sighed, defeated. "Romance is dead."

"You tried romance," Yaku pointed out. "You tried living with romance. Romance left you, kept the ring, and stole your cat."

No matter how many weeks or kilometres Kuroo put between himself and that wound, hearing it aloud never seemed to hurt less. "I'm more upset about the cat," he grumbled.

Yaku rolled his eyes. "Of course you are."

"Anyway, she didn't steal him, Takeo—"

"Takeo was supposed to drive him up but he had to work, I know." Yaku sniffed. "Sounds awfully convenient to me."

"I'll get him back sometime."

"Right."

After their meal, they walked as far as the train station together, arguing cheerfully about nothing in particular. When they parted on the steps, Yaku reluctantly allowed Kuroo to pull him into a hug, despite his general aversion to showing affection, or letting people into his personal space, or anyone over 170cm. 

"Hey," Yaku said, pulling away before Kuroo could get comfortable. "I'm glad you're back."

Kuroo beamed at him. "Thanks, Yakkun. Me too."

"Cool, now get lost."

"One day you'll admit to the world how much you really love me."

Yaku made a face. "I hope I lose my mind first."

They parted ways, and Kuroo went up to wait on the platform. Compared to the usual daytime crush, the station wasn't very busy at that hour. Just as Kuroo pulled out his phone to text his mother, he was engulfed by a crowd of people coming down from the other platform. He stood to one side to let the first wave pass. 

As Kuroo stepped out again, someone brushed past him, their arms touching briefly. He caught a brief glimpse of a pretty face and wide, curious eyes, before the crowd separated them.

Remembering what he had said to Yaku, Kuroo smiled self-deprecatingly. He had caught gazes with people like that before, but he'd never been brave enough to do anything about it. Part of him wanted to turn around anyway, just to make sure. He sighed. Yaku would laugh at him. But Yaku was gone, and if the other person didn't look back, Kuroo could go home and quietly accept that romance was dead. 

He took a quick breath, then he turned and looked over his shoulder. 

The young man had stopped, and was looking back at Kuroo. Surprised, Kuroo stopped too. The crowd of passengers passed him, then the other man, and still they stood, half turned, looking at one another. 

Kuroo started to smile, a little self-conscious. The man turned fully to face him. His hands held the straps of his backpack. He was fiddling with the left one. 

The moment stretched out. Kuroo glanced away nervously, just be sure that the man really was looking at him, nobody else. When he looked back, Kuroo realised that the stranger looked familiar. He was just trying to decide if he should wave or run away when the man spoke.

"Kuroo?"

"Uh, yeah?" Kuroo took a couple of steps forward. The stranger did the same. He was so familiar, but Kuroo couldn't place him. Volleyball? University? Kuroo knew him from somewhere.

The stranger took half a step closer, as though he wasn't sure, despite having called out the right name. "You don't—um, did I—"

Awareness crashed through Kuroo like an upturned bucket. He looked different— _very different_ —but even so, Kuroo wasn't sure how he'd mistaken him. 

" _Kenma_ ," he said, hurrying forward to close the distance between them. He was reaching out before he knew it, but he saw the way Kenma drew himself in and stopped, grasping Kenma gently by the shoulders instead of trying to hug him. "Oh my god, wow, I can't believe I didn't recognise you." He ran his eyes quickly over Kenma's face, his clothes, his hair—his _hair_ —and smiled warmly before letting him go. "You look—you look _amazing_."

Kenma’s mouth was tight. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he licked his bottom lip before speaking. "You look like shit."

Kuroo stared back at him for a few moments in silence, just long enough to see a ghost of concern flicker between Kenma’s eyebrows. Then he laughed, loud and brief. "Yeah," he admitted, still grinning at Kenma. "I probably do. Trust you to tell me the truth."

Kenma's mouth twitched again, very slightly. "You're impossible to lie to."

"Hey, Kozume!"

Kuroo jumped a little at the sound of Kenma's name coming from somewhere else. They both turned to look down the steps, the way Kenma had been heading. A handful of people, three or four, had stopped to wait. One raised his arm in greeting. 

"I'll catch up!" Kenma called back. "You guys carry on!"

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, which Kenma looked unimpressed by when he turned back. "Friends of yours?"

"Something like that," Kenma replied dismissively. "We work together."

"Oh, those were your colleagues?" Kuroo said, craning his neck to see where they'd gone. They were already out of sight, swallowed by the dark street. 

Kenma huffed. "Are you interested all of a sudden?"

The words felt sharp, like Kenma had kept them so, ready to throw when he got the chance. Kuroo winced at them and bowed his head apologetically. "I deserved that," he said calmly. 

"Kuroo, I didn't mean—"

"Kenma, seriously," Kuroo said, shaking his head. "I've been a terrible friend, and you're right, it's not like I—god, I don't even remember the last time we spoke."

"It was my birthday," Kenma said, his voice almost inaudible. "The one before last."

Kuroo winced again. "See? I didn't even call you on your birthday. I'm so sorry, Kenma."

"Kuro, stop."

The sound of Kenma calling him that again made his insides ache. Sighing, Kuroo looked up and met Kenma's eyes. Kenma smiled back at him tentatively. Kuroo felt suddenly brave, or maybe just reckless, but meeting two old friends on the same night seemed too much of a chance to let it slip.

"Do you want to get a drink—" he said, but Kenma started speaking at the same time. They both broke off, apologetic, and Kenma nodded at Kuroo for him to repeat his words. 

"Oh," Kenma said, when Kuroo asked again. "I should really, um—my...friends."

"Right!" Kuroo said quickly. "Yeah, not a problem, you should—"

"Wait—"

Kenma caught hold of his sleeve; Kuroo didn't even know he'd backed away until he felt Kenma tug on his jacket. 

"Don't go," Kenma said, frowning. After a moment he released his hold on Kuroo's sleeve and tucked his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. When Kuroo tried to catch his eyes, Kenma ducked his head in a way that was so familiar, it made Kuroo ache slightly. Kenma had cut his hair short in the last couple of years, and it framed his face pleasantly, but no longer hid his eyes. He looked up again quickly, glancing past Kuroo's shoulder. "Are you...going somewhere?"

Kuroo shrugged. "Just home."

Kenma's eyes widened. "Home?"

"I moved back in with my mom a few weeks ago," Kuroo said with a self-deprecating smile. "And believe me, Yaku has been making sure I know _exactly_ how pathetic that is." 

"Yaku?"

"Yeah, we just had dinner." 

"Oh, that's good," Kenma said in a quiet voice that Kuroo couldn't identify. "I'm glad you keep in touch."

Kuroo licked his bottom lip. He felt unaccountably nervous. "Do you? Keep in touch with anyone, I mean?"

Kenma fiddled with one of his backpack straps again. "With Shouyou," he said, glancing around nervously, as though Hinata might jump out at him any moment. Kuroo wouldn't have been surprised if he had. 

"I guess he's kind of hard to ignore," Kuroo said with a sardonic smile. Kenma looked at him sharply and Kuroo flailed. "Ah—not that we were ignoring each other," he added quickly. "At least I hope not? I know I wasn't ignoring you, things just got busy and complicated, and—"

"Kuro," Kenma said, cutting across him calmly. He closed his eyes briefly, looking tired. "I should catch up with the others."

Kuroo nodded. "Yup. Catching up, good. We should do that too, sometime."

Kenma tilted his head. "I thought we just did."

He turned away to fish for something in his bag, and Kuroo's stomach plummeted. Of course, what had he expected? He wasn't even sure of the last time he'd seen Kenma in person, and he'd told himself countless times before, in moments when he felt low, that maybe it was better to move on. Before he could think of something breezy to say in response, Kenma reached for his arm again. He rolled back Kuroo's sleeve carefully, avoiding touching his bare skin, then he slowly wrote a phone number on Kuroo's arm. 

"I...don't really like to answer the phone," Kenma admitted quietly, snapping the cap back on the pen. 

"I remember."

"But if you send me a message, I'll reply."

Kuroo stared at him. The moment felt delicate, like a soap bubble; he didn't want to move too fast, or breathe too hard, and break it. "What should I say, when I message you?"

Kenma hesitated. He was looking down at Kuroo's wrist, still held awkwardly in the space between them. After a moment he took a deep breath and looked up, meeting Kuroo's gaze again. "Tell me something I don't know about you," he said quietly. He half turned and took a step backward, tucking the pen into his pocket. "Say hello to Auntie," he added, with a rueful smile. "And tell her I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Kuroo called out, but Kenma was already hurrying down the steps. 

Kuroo watched him go, until he turned the corner and the darkness took him away, into the city. Glancing at his phone, Kuroo frowned when he realised he'd missed a train. He would have to wait another half an hour for the next, and he wished that he could have compelled Kenma to stay somehow. Not that he would have known what to say if he'd been successful, but he felt that he could have said _something_. 

Idly, Kuroo made his way up to the platform and sat down to wait for his train. He texted his mother to let her know that he would be later, then scrolled through his contacts. Kenma's number had gone unused for a long time. Looking back through the message history, Kuroo realised that he'd sent a couple of texts around six months earlier that had gone unanswered. That must have been after Kenma changed his number, or so he hoped. It still didn't soothe the sting to know that Kenma had gotten a new number and hadn't bothered to tell him. 

Stuck for anything better to do, Kuroo pulled up the browser on his phone and went through Kenma's various social media accounts. All of them were defunct; either removed, or abandoned for almost a year. Kuroo had never been good at keeping a stable online presence himself; he flitted from one to another, forgetting or deleting them frequently, always distracted by something else. He wished now that he'd tried harder. Maybe, that way, he might have noticed Kenma disappearing from his life, turning into someone else. 

The most recent picture he found of Kenma was from just over a year ago, near his own birthday two years previous. His hair was long then, dyed grey and pulled back into a messy ponytail. He wasn't looking at the camera, but it was clear that he was smiling at something, one hand on someone else's arm, the other holding a glass of wine. 

The photo made Kuroo feel overwhelmingly sad. He didn't recognise the people in the photo, and he barely recognised the smile on Kenma's face. First that Kenma, and now the strange, short-haired Kenma from tonight. Kuroo felt doubly removed from his friend. There were whole seasons, whole years of Kenma's life that he had missed: people and places and jobs and parties and haircuts; Kuroo closed the window and scrolled to the favourites in his contact list. 

Bokuto's phone rang and rang, which was to be expected. It went to voicemail, and Kuroo sighed at Bokuto's familiar message. 

"Hey," he said, after the beep. "Can we talk? Nothing heavy, just to talk."

He hung up again and waited. After a minute, his phone rang.

"Hey."

_"Tetsu! Oh my god, dude, how's it going? You back in Tokyo yet?"_

Kuroo smiled. "Yeah, I moved back a couple of weeks ago."

_"That's so awesome! We have to do something when I'm around next, yeah? Hey, do you like candy? I forget if you always gave me your candy or if I just took it. Anyway, I'm gonna send you some candy from this place, it's crazy the kinds of stuff they have—"_

"I'll email you my mom's address," Kuroo said, laughing under his breath. 

_"Your mom?"_

"Yeah. I told you, I'm living with my mom, just until—"

 _"Tetsu!"_ Bokuto whined. _"That's so lame, you're almost thirty. You should give your mom a break, she's probably had enough of you hanging around, cramping her style."_

Kuroo made a face. "You sound just like her."

_"Awesome, man! Your mom is awesome!"_

"Yeah, yeah," Kuroo said, rolling his eyes. "So, how's it going?"

_"Don't do that, dude."_

"Do what?"

Bokuto made an impatient sound. _"You said you wanted to talk. I thought you meant **you** needed to talk. But if this is one of those, 'hey Bokuto I'm having a crisis so please talk at me until I'm okay' moments, you gotta tell me."_

Kuroo opened his mouth to reply and paused. "I—I'm not sure what it is," he admitted after a moment. 

_"Yeah? Something happen?"_ Bokuto's voice darkened. _"It's not Aki-chan, is it?"_

"No, no," Kuroo muttered, stashing away the shiver he got at hearing the name. It was way past time he got used to that. "No, I—hey, I was wondering. When did you last see Kenma? Or talk to him?"

There was a pause, then Bokuto made a long, thoughtful noise. _"Nope,"_ he said at last. _"Can't remember. I guess you would have been there though. Maybe that party? You remember, that summer—"_

Kuroo groaned. Of course he remembered that summer. He knew it couldn't have been as good as he thought it was, but the memories had aged like sweet wine, and made him smile at the same time as they made him sick with nostalgia. Three and a half years ago, right before he'd met Akina, a group of them had all crammed into a house down in Okinawa. Kuroo had only known about half the group, but he'd known Kenma, and Bokuto, and Hinata and Yachi, and the rest hadn't really mattered. He remembered walking along the beach at sunset, Kenma trying to get signal on his phone, while Hinata and Yachi ran in and out of the surf, kicking water at each other and screaming. 

That had been the night they danced on the beach, with music playing from someone's portable speakers, and Kuroo had drunk too much and kissed three different people. He remembered a tall woman with neon hair, and a short guy with a lip ring, but he couldn't remember who the third had been. Going by everyone's teasing the next day, it had to have been a friend. He had a suspicion that it had been Yachi, given the awkwardness between them every time they met for months after that, but he had never felt brave enough to ask. 

"That's one of the last times I saw him too," Kuroo admitted guiltily. "I mean...the last time we really hung out together properly."

Bokuto gasped. _"Tetsu, that's crazy."_

"Yeah, we just lost touch."

 _"But that's so sad!"_ Bokuto wailed. _"Don't you miss him? You guys were like...the best friends to end all best friends. I can't believe even you stopped being friends with him."_

Kuroo felt a wave of inexplicable anger rise in his throat. "I didn't stop being his friend," Kuroo snapped. "We just stopped talking, that's all."

Bokuto wasn't listening. _"That would be like...like me not being friends with Konoha and Yukie, or **Akaashi** , only like— **times ten**."_

"You're making a big deal out of nothing," Kuroo muttered, slouching in his seat. He wished he hadn't bothered asking Bokuto about this; he should have called Yaku instead, even Kai, though Kuroo hated to bother him. 

Bokuto finally noticed the change in Kuroo's mood and tried apologising, which just made Kuroo feel guilty and hollow. 

"It's fine," he muttered, wanting to be done with the conversation.

 _"Yeah, okay,"_ Bokuto said amiably. _"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."_

"Thanks."

_"Just—"_

Kuroo sighed. Bokuto cut himself off quickly, but Kuroo still felt guilty for snapping. "What is it?"

 _"It's nothing, just. Don't you miss him?"_ Bokuto asked again.

The words made Kuroo's stomach turn miserably. He could still remember so clearly the confusion of seeing Kenma again, the moment of clarity when he'd realised who he was looking at. He still felt guilty for not recognising Kenma, even as different as he looked. 

"Of course I miss him," Kuroo said, trying to rein in his frustration. He was angry at himself, he knew, maybe a little at Kenma. Not Bokuto. "I'm sorry, Kou, it's just—everything's so shit lately, and today I finally get some good news, but then Kenma—"

 _"What about Kenma?"_ Bokuto interrupted, his voice urgent and worried. _"He's okay, right?"_

Kuroo waved his free hand in the air irritably. "He's fine, he's—I mean, I assume he's fine. We just...I ran into him, totally by chance."

Bokuto made another excitable noise. _"Bro, what the hell? I can't believe you didn't lead with that!"_

"Well, we didn't even—"

_"How is he? Did you guys talk? Are you gonna hang out again? Did you ask—"_

"Oh my god, Kou," Kuroo said, half laughing. "Slow down, dude."

 _"You slow down!"_ Bokuto said, nonsensically. 

"I just don't have anything to tell," Kuroo said, sighing a little. "I mean...we barely said anything to each other really. He was on his way somewhere with some friends, or colleagues, or whatever—they walked past me just outside the station, I'm just on my way back from seeing Yaku—"

_"Yakkun! How is he?"_

Kuroo rolled his eyes. "One thing at a time, dude."

_"Oh yeah, yeah. So, you saw Kenma?"_

"Yeah." Kuroo bit his lip, ducking his head a little. "I didn't recognise him. At first I mean. I turned around because I thought he was, uh—I thought he was kinda cute, and when I looked behind me, he was standing there staring at me. And then he said my name, and I finally realised who it was."

 _"Du—ude,"_ Bokuto said, laughing. _"You thought Kenma was hot!"_

"Shut up."

_"That's hilarious!"_

Kuroo bristled for the second time in as many minutes. "Why is that so hilarious? He _is_ cute. Anyway, it would make sense that I find him hot, wouldn't it? I've known him basically my whole life, and—"

_"Tetsu, woah, calm down. I just thought it was kinda funny that you were macking on your best friend without realising. I don't mean anything by it, man."_

"Yeah," Kuroo muttered, letting himself be soothed. He relaxed in his seat. "I know that, sorry. I'm just kinda on edge."

_"Because of Kenma?"_

"I guess?" Kuroo picked at a fleck of peeling paint on the bench he was sitting on. It flaked away, and he thoughtlessly started to pick at it with the corner of his thumbnail. "I just—I can't get over how weird it was to see him again. He kind of—I dunno, he said something about me not caring about what he's doing, and I apologised but then he said he had to leave. He gave me his number though. Told me to message him."

Bokuto made an encouraging sound. _"That's great! Are you gonna do it? That's awesome. You guys can totally reconnect and be best friends again!"_

"I don't think that's how it works," Kuroo said ruefully. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, wishing for a moment that he'd taken more care over his appearance today. Not that Kenma had ever cared what he looked like, and was probably the last person who ever would. But Kenma had looked _so_ good; attractive and healthy, with fashionable clothes and a cute haircut. Kuroo couldn't help wondering if he was seeing someone, and if that was a thing he might have heard about through mutual friends. He couldn't recall Kenma being in a serious relationship with anyone other than his computer or his psp. 

_"Hey, Tetsu, I'm really sorry man but I gotta go soon."_

"That's okay," Kuroo said, forcing his tone to sound bright and carefree. "Thanks for listening, yeah? And let me know when you're next in town."

 _"Yeah!"_ Bokuto said, gaining enthusiasm now that he was central to the conversation once more. _"Tokyo, baby! Maybe we can actually see more of each other now you're back where you belong."_

Kuroo laughed weakly. "Nagoya wasn't so bad."

 _"It sucked, dude,"_ Bokuto said flatly. _"And you sucked, being all the way down there. I want you here, where you can come to my games and tell me how awesome I am."_

"You're so awesome," Kuroo said, going heavy on the sarcasm.

Bokuto made an indignant sound, but Kuroo could tell that he was kidding. _"I'll let you off that one, but you gotta come to my next game!"_

"Okay—"

_"And cheer really really loud."_

"Obviously."

_"And make a big sign, with glitter—"_

"Goodnight, Koutarou."

Bokuto laughed. _"I love you, man. See you soon!"_

The world felt very quiet after Kuroo hung up the phone. He hadn't seen Bokuto yet this year; the last time they met had been after his breakup with Akina, but before Christmas. Kuroo had stayed on Bokuto's couch for a few days and gotten roaringly drunk with Bokuto and his teammates, and then again with Bokuto and Yukie, before returning home to pick up what was left of his life. 

By the time Kuroo got home, it was late, but judging by the light in kitchen window, his mother was still up. Kuroo let himself into the apartment, and her voice echoed along the hallway to him. 

"Hey, Mom," Kuroo said, dropping into a chair with a heavy sigh. 

"Uh oh." She looked up from her laptop and frowned at him. "You okay, kiddo?"

Kuroo dug the ball of his thumb into his eye socket and jabbed at the pain radiating from behind his eyeball. "Yeah. Weird night. Time. Out." He sighed and blinked his eyes a few time. All he'd managed to do was make the pain more focused. "I had a weird time."

His mom had gone back to her work, but she glanced up again after a moment and raised her eyebrow expectantly. "Oh yeah? You gonna tell me or is this twenty questions?"

"No, god, don't start guessing," he groaned, sitting back in his chair. He rocked it back on two legs, arching his back to ease out the tension in his lumbar, but then his mom kicked him in the ankle and he dropped back to the floor with a jolt. "Hey!"

"Four legs on the floor," she said sternly, pointing her finger at the ground. "Classroom rules, you know that."

Kuroo groaned and buried his face in his hands. 

It took a few moments, but eventually his mom remembered her duty and reached over to ruffle his hair. "Hey," she said gently. "Is something wrong?"

"Did you know Kenma lives nearby?"

She sat up, smiling encouragingly. "I didn't think you two were keeping in touch anymore."

"It's not—" Kuroo protested awkwardly, but he didn't know what he wanted to say and trailed off again. "We just...drifted."

"So you've said." 

Kuroo groaned. "Whatever. He's in Tokyo again. Or still, I guess. I ran into him at the station when I was on my way home."

His mother looked at him curiously, her eyes narrowed slightly as though she were trying to figure something out. It made Kuroo feel itchy and nervous; it was the same way she always looked at him when he had done something wrong, or when she knew he was being dishonest about something but couldn't work out what. He noticed her gaze slip to his arm, and remembered too late to pull down his sleeve. 

"So," she said after a moment, turning back to her laptop. "Are you two going to see each other again?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, hearing the defensiveness in his voice and wincing.

"What does it sound like?"

Kuroo shrugged. "I guess. He told me to message him, that's all. We didn't make any plans." He huffed and leaned forward to rest his chin on his arms on the table. "We barely even had a conversation."

"I can't say I remember Kenma as a big talker," she said, giving him a _look_ briefly before going back to her work. "Now, Koutarou-kun, on the other hand—"

"I talked to him tonight too," Kuroo said, grasping at the opportunity to get off the subject of Kenma. "I called him, I mean, after I ran into...he's got a game soon."

His mother raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly for him to go on, still typing. "Are you going to go?"

"I might. I mean, yeah, I guess I will, or I'll never hear the end of it." Kuroo pushed himself up in his seat again. "You wanna come?" 

"I thought you might invite someone else," she said, giving him a significant look. 

Kuroo frowned. "I dunno if Kenma would like that. I think he's fallen out of touch with even more people than I have."

She made a thoughtful noise.

"What?"

"Maybe that's just because _you_ weren't there, Tetsu."

Kuroo blinked.

"Well, that's the last of those," his mother announced, clicking a few more times on the mousepad before closing her laptop with a snap. "I'm going to get ready for bed. Don't stay up too late, okay?"

"I won't." Kuroo tilted his face to kiss her cheek as she leaned over him. Unexpectedly, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and Kuroo bit his lip as he found himself engulfed in a warm hug. He felt strange and tearful all of a sudden, and he clung to her for a long time while she held him patiently. 

"Sleep well, my darling," she murmured as she pulled away. She brushed his messy hair off his forehead and kissed it softly. 

Kuroo bit his cheek. He still felt close to tears, and he didn't want to cry in front of his mother like a little kid. "Night, Mom."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Kuroo couldn’t help wondering if maybe Kenma had reconsidered after running him into the night before. Kuroo had never known Kenma to be especially prone to doing things spontaneously, without thinking them through beforehand, but a Kenma who lived and worked in the city, who cut his hair short and dressed like a cute hipster, might do anything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know what Kenma's new haircut looks like, I posted a lil sketchy of it [on my blog](https://notallballs.tumblr.com/post/156504808297/28yo-kenma-from-my-new-kuroken-fic-d)! :O

Kuroo woke from unsettled dreams with one stray thought rattling around in his head. It lingered as he got up, brushed his teeth, ate breakfast, took a shower. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t shake it.

Eventually he gave in and called Bokuto again. 

Bokuto picked up this time, though from the sound of his laboured breathing, he was most likely at the gym. 

“Tetsu,” he said cheerfully. “What's up?”

“You said something yesterday,” Kuroo said, chewing the inside of his cheek absently. “About Kenma.”

Bokuto didn't reply at first, then he let out a heavy sigh. “Sorry, dude,” he said, obviously out of breath. “You'll have to remind me.”

Kuroo frowned. “You said something about even _I'm_ not friends with him.”

“Right,” Bokuto said, and didn't elaborate. 

Kuroo bit his cheek harder and tried to keep his temper. “Well, what's that supposed to mean?”

“I don't know,” Bokuto said vaguely. “Just...he kinda stopped talking to everyone, didn't he? Like I told you, man, I haven't seen him in—what, three, four years? I know Akaashi and everyone hasn't seen him either. We all tried keeping in touch and stuff, but he just kinda fell off the face of the planet, you know?"

"He obviously didn't," Kuroo murmured, "considering I saw him near Shibuya last night."

"Well, you didn't talk to him either," Bokuto said.

Kuroo scowled. There was no malice in Bokuto's voice, and Kuroo knew he hadn't meant it as an accusation, but it still stung. He had always known what Kenma was like, that he was slippery and difficult to pin down. And rather than keep trying, Kuroo had let him go. Just like everyone had, it seemed. 

"Thanks, Kou," he said, filling his voice with false cheer. "Hey, when's your next game?"

"This weekend!" Bokuto exclaimed, the excitement bursting through his heavy breathing. "Didn't I say? We're playing at home this weekend, you have to come."

"Shouldn't you be tapering if you have a game?"

Bokuto made a dismissive noise. "It's only Wednesday, man. The game is Sunday afternoon, okay? Ask Akinori, he knows when and where and stuff." 

"Yeah? They coming?"

"Should be!"

Kuroo pressed his thumb and finger to the bridge of his nose. He felt guilty for getting annoyed with Bokuto, but it was hardly the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. Bokuto always forgave him anyway. He was about to smile and joke and hang up, but he stopped himself at the last second and changed tack.

"Hey, Kou?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. I feel like—I think I've been kind of a jerk lately. I'm sorry, yeah?"

Bokuto, of course, shrugged him off. "Nah, man, you've had a hard time. Don't worry about it."

Kuroo smiled. "Let's hang out soon, just the two of us."

"Best friends date?" Bokuto said, his voice lighting up.

"Best friends date," Kuroo agreed. "If I don't see you before the game, good luck."

He was answered by the sound of Bokuto drinking noisily. He smiled and waited for him to be done. 

"Ah, thanks, dude," Bokuto said at last. "But you'll be there, right?"

"Yeah, I'll be there."

 

 

It took Kuroo all afternoon to text Kenma. 

_Tell me something I don't know about you._

At first, all Kuroo could think of were things that Kenma _did_ know about him. In some cases—many cases in fact—Kenma was the _only_ one who knew certain things about him. Kuroo couldn't help but wonder if maybe that was the reason he and Akina hadn't worked out; he'd never really opened up to her the way he had to Kenma. 

After that, he could only think of things that he thought Kenma _might_ know, but their sporadic communication in the past couple of years threw a different light over everything that had happened in his life since they last saw one another. 

Did Kenma know that Kuroo had a cat— _had_ a cat, he thought bitterly—or that he and Akina had called off their engagement? Did he know that Kuroo had fractured his ankle last year?

 _I broke up with Akina in November_ , he typed, and sent it to the number Kenma had given him.

The reply only took a minute.

_I knew about that one, sorry_

Kuroo read over the message a couple of times. He couldn't tell if Kenma was sorry about the breakup, or sorry that Kuroo had failed the test. He wondered if the lack of clarity was deliberate. 

_That's not the secret_ , Kuroo texted back, definitely being obtuse on purpose.

_?_

_We broke up because she was cheating on me_

_Oh_  
_You're right, I didn't know that_

Kuroo laughed. The tone of the messages was so familiar: straightforward, unaffected, but not unkind. Kuroo suddenly missed Kenma terribly. 

_Is it your turn to tell me something?_

After he sent the text, Kuroo stared at his phone anxiously. Kenma had an easier job here than he did; while Kuroo had haphazardly tried to keep Kenma in the loop about his life, Kenma had made very little effort to do the same. 

When he replied, Kuroo almost dropped his phone in his hurry to read the message. 

_Remember when I quit Sun Tech_

Kuroo frowned. _Yeah?_

_I didn’t quit_  
_They fired me_

Kuroo sat back in surprise. He remembered Kenma quitting; it had been the same summer they took that trip to the beach. Kenma had been overtired, overworked, and he and Kuroo had fought over Kuroo’s suggestion that he look for something else. Then, one day, Kenma had suddenly handed in his resignation and taken a month off from working entirely. He had moved out of his apartment too, and stayed with Kuroo for almost three weeks, until they were at each other’s throats from being in such close confines. 

With the knowledge that Kenma had been fired, Kuroo found himself suddenly looking at dozens of memories through another lens, distorting the images into a new clarity. 

_Why didn’t you tell me?_

_I was ashamed_  
_Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?_

Kuroo bit his lip. He wanted to know, but it was years ago now. If Kenma had wanted to talk about it, he would have. 

_Nope_

He waited, but no other response came. After several minutes, Kuroo texted again.

_Do you want to come with me to Bokuto’s game this weekend?_  
_Konoha will be there, probably Akaashi_  
_We don't have to talk to everyone_  
_It can just be us_

Kenma's response took longer this time. Kuroo tried to reassure himself that Kenma was probably just busy with work, but it was difficult to quell the anxiety completely. He couldn’t help wondering if maybe Kenma had reconsidered after running him into the night before. Kuroo had never known Kenma to be especially prone to doing things spontaneously, without thinking them through beforehand, but a Kenma who lived and worked in the city, who cut his hair short and dressed like a cute hipster, might do anything. 

Before he could think himself into a corner, Kenma finally replied.

_Sure_

Kuroo replied, trying not to sound _too_ enthusiastic, and they arranged to meet at the station nearest to the stadium. 

Sunday was still farther away than Kuroo would have liked, but he reasoned with himself that if he could wait more than two years to see Kenma again, he could wait four more days. 

 

 

Kuroo's mother always went to the gym on Sunday morning, then to an English language conversation group with some friends, so he had the apartment to himself until lunchtime. Normally he liked the quiet, but that day it felt suffocating.

Too antsy to stay in bed, he got up early and went for a run. It was a long time since he’d gone running outside, and he quickly found himself out of breath. To make things worse the air was bitterly cold, and the streets icy, so that he almost slipped on his backside more than once. He made a mental note to tell Bokuto about it later; Bokuto might tease, but wouldn’t make him feel bad for being out of shape. He’d probably make a joke about cats landing on their feet. Kuroo smiled at the thought; Bokuto’s predictability was always comforting.

When it finally came time to meet Kenma, Kuroo arrived far too early. Looking at his phone, he realised that he could've gotten the next train and arrived five minutes early instead of twenty, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He stood on the steps for a few minutes, shivering in a coat that was too thin, then went back inside to buy a coffee from the vending machine. 

His head was a jumble of things that he felt too numb to sift through. He felt both nervous, and indifferent. He wanted to impress Kenma, but on the other hand he knew Kenma too well to expect that he would be particularly impressed by anything Kuroo said or did. He realised that he was thinking about this almost as if it were a date and he laughed at himself for it, his breath steaming in the air.

In the end, Kenma crept up on him, appearing suddenly at his elbow with a gentle tug on his sleeve. The gesture was so familiar, that in the moment before Kuroo turned, they might have been eight years old again, and Kenma scared of the other children he didn’t know. 

When he turned around, Kenma looked up and met his gaze. He didn’t smile, but Kuroo recognised the eager warmth in his eyes. 

“Kenma.” Kuroo licked his lips nervously. He was fairly sure that a hug was out of the question; even three years ago he probably wouldn’t have risked startling Kenma with a hug, but he wanted to touch him somehow, to reassure himself that Kenma was here, and real. “Did it take you long to get here?”

“It isn’t that far from me,” Kenma said, tilting his head slightly in that way that meant _I see you. I see what you’re doing._

“You’re analysing me,” Kuroo accused, showing his teeth in something closely resembling a smile. 

Kenma didn’t look especially chastened. “I’m curious,” he said with a shrug.

“Yeah?”

Kenma squinted at him briefly, then shrugged. “You seem nervous.”

“Why would I be nervous about meeting up with my oldest friend who I’ve barely spoken to in three years?”

“I thought so.”

“Alright, Captain Smartypants,” Kuroo said, rolling his eyes. “You know everything, mere mortals are not worthy—”

“Kuro,” Kenma said, chastising him gently. He was almost smiling. 

Kuroo responded with a grin. “Are you hungry?” he asked, letting the high of _almost_ getting Kenma to smile carry him through his nerves. “We’re actually a bit early for the game, but we can probably find a café on the way, if you wanted to…”

He trailed off, but Kenma didn’t leave him hanging for long. “That sounds good.”

“Let’s go then.”

Kuroo had in fact spent a good portion of his Saturday night researching places to eat near the stadium, reading endless reviews and pestering Yaku for his opinion on this café or that bar. He had a shortlist of three places they could check out, ranked in descending order of how well they met the exacting specifications he had drawn up for making Kenma feel comfortable in public. He also had a secondary list in case Kenma wanted to hang out after the game. Yaku had sighed at him a lot. 

He steered them subtly in the direction of the first place on the list, but Kenma hesitated at the doorway, reading the menu by the door.

“Want to keep looking?” Kuroo asked lightly, glancing around the cosy interior of the bar from the doorway. It wasn’t very busy, but patrons were scattered throughout so there weren’t that many places to sit _away_ from people. Or maybe Kenma just didn’t like the look of the menu. When Kenma hesitated, Kuroo smiled and nudged his shoulder gently. “We’ll keep looking, I’m sure there’s somewhere else nearby that you’ll like.”

The second place, a family run café and bakery, seemed much more appealing to Kenma. He went ahead, holding the door for Kuroo, and then going straight to a table in the corner with plush, comfy-looking chairs. They got seated, and a cheerful plump woman who reminded him of Bokuto's mother took their order. 

“So, you're still working as a technician?”

“Technologist,” Kenma corrected gently. 

“Architectural Technologist, I remember,” Kuroo said, only half apologetic. He inclined his head, encouraging Kenma to go on.

Kenma fidgeted a little, probably longing for his phone in his hand. “I work for Osamu Bildu now.”

Kuroo's expression fell slack in surprise. “I've heard of them. They're one of those ‘starchitects’, right?” he said, making air quotes with one hand. “They won that big green ocean project?”

Kenma was rolling his eyes. “Ocean Blue, Ocean Green,” he agreed reluctantly. 

“Kenma, that's amazing,” Kuroo said, grinning at him. “Are you working on it?”

“A little,” Kenma said, turning his eyes away in a clear gesture that said he didn't want to talk about it anymore. “You're still teaching?”

Kuroo nodded. “Start at my new school in a couple of weeks.” He looked up to find Kenma watching him expectantly. “Ah, it's actually the same school Mom teaches at.” He said it with a sheepish smile, remembering how Yaku had made fun of him for it, but Kenma leaned forward in his chair to listen, so Kuroo told him about the school, and confessed that he was actually looking forward to working with his mother.

They were interrupted by the arrival of their drinks. Kenma cupped his hot chocolate in both hands and sipped it impatiently. 

Kuroo figured they were probably done talking for now, but Kenma surprised him by looking up from his drink after a minute, his top lip sticky with foam. “How is she?” he asked. “Your mom.”

Kenma licked his lips, and Kuroo blinked quickly when he found himself watching. “Uh—yeah. Yeah! She's great.” He took a sip of his tea and winced when he found it far too hot. “She never changes, you know. She said hi, by the way, she was really happy that we ran into each other.”

“Me too,” Kenma murmured, before going back to his drink. Kuroo hid his delighted smile in his cup of tea.

They didn't have time to linger over their drinks, which at least meant there wasn't too much time for awkward conversation. Kenma didn't volunteer any information about his own family, so Kuroo didn't ask; instead, he asked Kenma what he'd been playing recently, and they passed the rest of the time talking about games until they reached the stadium. 

 

 

Kuroo had anticipated that Kenma might struggle with the crowds at the stadium, but in fact, he didn’t even seem to notice them. He forged ahead to find the stairs, while Kuroo struggled to keep up with him. The crowd didn't seem that thick, but it was somehow oppressive to him, and Kuroo was breathing hard by the time he caught up to Kenma, halfway up the stairs. 

He took the steps two at a time, and Kenma turned to give him a curious look. Kuroo hoped that Kenma wouldn't ask him what was wrong. 

“We'd better hurry,” he said, to forestall anything Kenma might want to ask. 

They found seats at the base of the stands, right by the railing, and Kuroo sank into his chair with a grateful sigh. One of the teams was already warming up, but their jerseys were the wrong colour for Bokuto's team, so he ignored them and reached for his bag. 

“You want a drink?” 

Kenma eyed him doubtfully. Kuroo unzipped his bag and retrieved a sports drink and a bag of banana chips, holding them out to Kenma, who accepted them with a tiny smile. 

“You're still mothering me,” he accused in a fond voice. 

Kuroo shrugged. “Can't invite you out and then let you starve.”

“Mm.”

They watched the other team go through the rest of their warm-up practice, the silence comfortable between them while the familiar sounds of volleyball surrounded them. 

“Shouyou always says big gyms like this smell like Air Salonpas,” Kenma said after a while. 

Kuroo laughed. “Yeah? I would've said...feet.” He glanced at Kenma to make sure he wasn't annoyed. “Feet and sports equipment.”

“How original,” Kenma said dryly.

“How’s Hinata? He still in the city?”

After a moment’s pause, Kenma shook his head. “He moved back to Miyagi for a job.” Kenma sighed. “But it’s fixed term, so he might move back next year.”

“Sounds good.”

A cheer from the other side of the stadium let them know that Bokuto's team had emerged from the locker room to begin their own warm-ups. 

“There he is,” Kuroo said, leaning forward to rest his arms on the railing. “He says hi, by way.”

Kenma smiled faintly, watching Bokuto take a running jump to spike at empty air. “His form is really good.”

“I'll tell him you said that,” Kuroo teased.

Bokuto was tall among the other players, though far from the tallest. He looked sleek and strong in his blue and white uniform, his shoulders broad and his hair swept back from his face. His eyes roamed the stands, and Kuroo tensed in anticipation. 

“He's still number four,” Kenma said quietly.

Kuroo looked round at Kenma. He too had leaned forward in his seat, and was watching Bokuto and his team with a faint smile. Kuroo was struck anew by how different Kenma looked; he had lost the last traces of baby fat, and the definition of his jaw made him look less feminine, more grown up. He looked over suddenly, and Kuroo realised that he was staring.

“Yeah,” he said, turning back to the court. “He got the number just before Christmas.”

Bokuto looked round suddenly and lifted his arms to start waving. Kuroo was out of his seat before he heard the ragged cheer behind them and realised Bokuto was waving at someone further up in the stands. 

“It's Akinori,” Kenma said, looking over his shoulder. “And—is that Keiji?”

Kuroo turned, and spotted the group of cheering fans. He recognised Konoha and Akaashi, as Kenma had pointed out, along with Suga, who had studied at the same university as Kuroo. Suga spotted him and waved, and Kuroo responded with an awkward grin. 

“Kuroo!”

The voice came from below. Kuroo turned to find Bokuto staring up at him, hands cupped around his mouth like a megaphone. When he saw Kuroo looking, he grinned and waved excitedly. 

“Good luck, Kou!” Kuroo yelled, waving back. 

When he sat back in his seat, Kenma was quiet, flipping his phone over and over in his lap. 

“Hey,” Kuroo said, leaning closer. “You okay? We don't have to go talk to the others if you're not feeling it.”

Kenma gave him the kind of look that was usually meant to tell him how hopeless he was. 

“They're friends,” he said after a moment, sounding a little snappish. “I'm not going to freak out, or run off, just because—”

“Hey, hey,” Kuroo said quickly, holding up his hands. Kenma stopped talking, but his mouth twisted in annoyance, and he was making that scrunchy face that meant Kuroo was in trouble. Kuroo sighed and tried to soothe Kenma's temper with a crooked smile. “I didn't mean anything,” he said, lowering his hands. “I just meant that I'd be cool with it if you wanted to sit with the others too. And if not,” he went on, deciding honesty was the best policy, “I'd kinda like to spend some time just the two of us anyway.”

Kenma raised an eyebrow. 

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Kenma muttered, turning back to look down at the players, who were finally beginning to line up. Kuroo thought he might be smiling again. “Me too.”

 

 

The game was over quickly; Bokuto's team won in three straight sets, though each was incredibly close. 

“I feel a little bad for the other team,” Kuroo laughed as they made their way down the stairs. “They came so close—three times!”

“At least they know they still played well,” Kenma said with a shrug.

Kuroo nudged their arms together, and when Kenma didn't move away, slid the arm around his shoulders. “Is that how _you_ felt, getting to Nationals and losing? ‘Hey, at least we _almost_ won those sets’?”

“You're being a jerk,” Kenma said without any particular inflection. They kept walking until they reached the main doors and stepped outside to where the crowd was dispersing. Kenma hesitated. “Should we look for the others?”

Kuroo glanced down at him. “Did you want to say hi?”

Kenma shrugged. 

“I know they'd love to see you, but you don't—”

“God, Kuroo,” Kenma snapped, shaking his arm off. “Just stop with the overprotective act, okay? I'm not a little kid, I don't need you to treat me like I'm going to have a breakdown if someone tries to talk to me, or my coffee cup is the wrong colour.”

Kuroo withdrew from Kenma's personal space and tried to slip his hands into his pockets as casually as he could. “Okay,” he said coolly, looking down at his feet and scuffing the toe of his trainer on the ground. “Sorry, I didn't realise I was doing that.” 

An awkward silence fell between them. Kuroo moved a piece of litter with the toe of his shoe and tried to keep his breathing even. He and Kenma had only been back in each other's lives for a few hours, and he was already fucking it up. He couldn't help but wonder if it was why Kenma had stopped talking to him in the first place, if maybe Kenma had just gotten sick of him.

“Kuro—”

“Hey, Kuroo! Kenma-kun!”

They both looked round at the sound of Suga’s cheerful voice. Kuroo pulled a hand out of his pocket to wave, and found himself drawing on a fake smile like a jacket, covering up the mess he was underneath. He greeted them cheerfully, allowing Suga to engulf him in a warm hug. 

"Hey, Suga," he said, bending down to tuck his grin against the other man's shoulder. "It's been a long time."

"And whose fault is that?" Suga said as he pulled back, and gave Kuroo a 'friendly' punch in the shoulder. 

"Definitely mine," Kuroo said, laughing to cover his wince. Suga was still stronger than he looked. 

He turned to greet Konoha and Akaashi next, who were thankfully a lot less physically demonstrative than Suga was. He bumped fists with Konoha, and squeezed Akaashi's shoulder fondly. 

"How're you doing?" he asked, watching out of the corner of his eye as Suga and Konoha both turned to greet Kenma. He could see Kenma shifting his weight uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting with his phone again, but he didn't look too unhappy. Besides, even if he had, Kuroo didn't intend to intervene right after Kenma had pulled him up for interfering. Kuroo focused on Akaashi instead, and tried to make his smile look genuine. "Are you waiting for Bokuto?"

Nodding, Akaashi pulled his coat tighter around himself and glanced from Kenma to Kuroo. “Will you join us?”

“Ahh, not today,” Kuroo said, running his fingers through his hair. He rubbed at the back of his head, fluffing his hair up as though that had been his goal all along. “But I told him I’d see him soon, I don’t think he’s expecting me to hang around today.”

“He’ll be pleased that you both came to watch.”

“He’s easy to please.” An awkward silence chased his words and he winced inwardly and searched for something to fill the quiet. “So, what’re you guys up to later?”

"I promised to bake him a cake if he won," Akaashi said mournfully. "Why do I get myself into these situations? I always mean to say no, and yet..."

Kuroo laughed. "Who can say no to that face, right?"

Akaashi grumbled. 

"Just buy a cake, he won't notice the difference."

Akaashi gave him a look of deep suffering which made Kuroo laugh guiltily. "Get Suga to help you, he's great at baking."

"I heard that, you lying bastard!" Suga called out fondly. "You know I can't bake to save my life."

Kuroo grinned at him. "You might have learned."

"Kuroo's the chef," Suga said, giving Akaashi a conspiratorial look. "You should get him to help you."

"Oh no," Kuroo said, holding up his hands and backing up quickly. "I'm nothing special."

Konoha, who had been talking quietly with Kenma, looked over and grinned. "We can easily find out," he said, gesturing to Kenma. "We've got a Kuroo Tetsurou litmus test right here."

Kuroo winced. "That's not really what a litmus test is for—”

"So!" Konoha said, speaking over him. "Kenma, tell us the truth. Is Kuroo good at baking or not?"

For the first time since Suga had called their names, Kuroo looked over and caught Kenma's eye. Kenma looked back at him passively. Kuroo tried to plead with his gaze; as much as he loved Bokuto, Kuroo couldn’t face the idea of being trapped in a kitchen with either him or Akaashi, or god forbid, both. 

Although he was out of practice, Kuroo had a long, long history of decoding the subtleties of Kenma's expressions. The subtle pout to his lips and his narrowed eyes meant that Kenma was considering his plea. Of course, if Kenma was still mad at him, he might get thrown to the wolves. But then, volunteering Kuroo to do something he didn't really want to do was just the sort of thing Kenma would do to a Kuroo he wasn’t even angry at. Kuroo didn't know which he feared more; having to bake for Bokuto, or having made Kenma angry. 

"He's a pretty terrible cook," Kenma said at last.

Kuroo gave Akaashi an apologetic smile, and calmly rebuffed Suga's insistence that he'd seen Kuroo bake plenty of times while they were at uni together. He didn't dare look back at Kenma, afraid that Kenma's refusal wasn't just a kindness, but a refusal to play, a rejection of his place in their friends' lives. In Kuroo's life. 

The others joked around, but Kuroo barely heard them. His head was roaring silently, drowning out their conversation with nothingness. 

Kuroo didn't hear a word until Suga clapped him on the shoulder and grinned up at him. "Give me a call, now that you're back in Tokyo, okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Kuroo said, dredging up another desperate smile. 

Kenma was mumbling a goodbye to Akaashi, which Kuroo assumed must mean he'd excused the both of them from any further social interaction. He said a distracted farewell to Konoha and Akaashi, and then the three of them dispersed; Suga and Konoha to the station, and Akaashi to go inside and wait for Bokuto. After they had gone, Kuroo and Kenma stood in silence for several moments, during which the space between them seemed to stretch and stretch until Kuroo didn't know how to cross it.

"Well," he said at last.

Kenma huffed in frustration. "Kuro, don't."

"Don't?" Kuroo said in a choked voice, his eyes widening. "What—”

"Sorry," Kenma muttered, glancing away. "That—wasn't what I meant."

Sighing, Kuroo shoved his hands back in his pockets and tried to calm the raging nothingness in his head. "Okay?"

Kenma glanced up at him and away again. "I'm sorry, for snapping at you."

Kuroo shrugged. "It's fine."

"No," Kenma said sharply, his face twisting unhappily. "Don't—don't do that, Kuro. Don't pretend like it's okay when it isn't."

"Okay, okay," Kuroo sighed, letting out a long breath. "Alright, it sucked, but it's fine. I get it, I'm being overbearing, I'll dial it back."

Kenma glanced up and this time held his gaze. He gave Kuroo a tiny smile. "You are, but I don't really mind it that much."

"Seemed like you did."

"I do mind it, but not so much when it's you." Kenma's nose scrunched up as though he was annoyed with himself for admitting that. "You're still irritating, but I know you—you're not doing it because you think you know best or anything. That's just...the way you are."

To his embarrassment, Kuroo felt the tips of his ears get hot. "I'm not that bad," he mumbled, raising his hand to ruffle the back of his hair again. 

Kenma smiled at last, quick and darting. "You are," he said, leaning a little closer. "But that's fine. I like you that way."

The tight fist around Kuroo's stomach unclenched, and the empty roar in his head quietened to a hum. He took a deep breath and sighed again, ending it on a crooked smile. "So you're not mad at me?"

Kenma rolled his eyes. "I wasn't."

"You're such a little shit," Kuroo said fondly, reaching out to put his arm around Kenma's shoulders. He waited a moment, and when Kenma leaned into him, he smiled and tugged him closer. "Good to know that hasn't changed."

"You didn't really think it would," Kenma murmured. 

"Maybe not," Kuroo said, grinning. "So, now that we got the awkwardness out of the way, wanna grab a drink and catch up? There’s a quirky bar near here that Yaku likes—”

Kenma shrugged. "I should probably get home. I have some work to do."

"Okay," Kuroo said, letting him slip away. "Another time then?"

"When do you start your new job?"

"A couple of weeks," Kuroo said, with a self-deprecating smile. "Until then I'm basically acting as live-in maid, and pretending to work out."

Kenma rolled his eyes. "I have a lot of work on at the moment, but we can do something."

"Yeah," Kuroo said. "Let's do something."

"That's what I said."

Kuroo grinned. "Don't pretend you didn't miss me."

If Kenma kept rolling his eyes like this, he was going to hurt himself. He huffed and took a step back. "Come on,” he said, tilting his head in the direction they had come earlier that day. “I’ll walk with you to the station.”

“Are you worried something will happen to me?” Kuroo teased, falling in alongside him. It was impossible to match Kenma’s stride give the disparity in their heights, but Kenma walked quickly when he didn’t have a phone or psp in hand, so Kuroo didn’t have to slow his usual walking speed to match. 

“Worried you might follow me.”

“Mm.”

They walked a little way in silence.

“Why did you lie to Akaashi?”

Kenma snorted. “I know you don’t want to get cornered into making a cake for Bokuto.” He glanced at Kuroo. “Especially with Keiji, he’s so grumpy when things don’t go right the first time.”

“You,” said Kuroo, impressed, “are merciless.”

“Plus,” Kenma said, as though he hadn’t spoken, “you’re useless at saying no to things you don’t actually want to do. It’s better if someone says no for you.”

“Well, thanks.”

“No problem.”

When they reached the station, Kuroo went automatically to the vending machine and bought two drinks. He handed one to Kenma, and catalogued the brief smile that Kenma tried to hide. 

“So, soon.”

“Soon,” Kenma agreed. “Take care, Kuro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading/commenting/kudosing! This fic is hard to write in a lot of ways and the feedback helps a lot (´｡• ω •｡`) ♡
> 
> Please consider [reblogging on tumblr](https://notallballs.tumblr.com/post/157190136562/common-side-effects-chapter-two) or [retweeting on twitter](https://twitter.com/notallbees/status/825362983866003456) if you're enjoying it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“How do you feel now?” Suga asked after a minute or so had passed._
> 
> _Kuroo sat up slowly, taking stock. He felt miserable. He felt humiliated. At the same time, he felt hollow, like an empty shell of a person._
> 
> _“Fine.”_

Almost a week went by after the volleyball game before Kuroo heard from Kenma again; his sparse, hopeful messages went unanswered, until he found himself replaying every second of their conversation, convincing himself that the afternoon hadn't gone as well as he'd thought.

On Friday morning he sat in one of the battered chairs in the window of the laundrette, and watched his clothes spin. The shop was only a street away from the apartment, and he had intended to go back and clean the kitchen while he waited for the cycle to finish, but instead he sat toying with his phone and worrying over whether or not he should keep trying to get in touch with Kenma.

Kuroo wished there was someone he could ask, but he'd always been the one other people came to if they were confused about how to deal with Kenma. The only person who was arguably more of an authority on Kenmaisms was Kenma's father, but even if Kuroo had known how to get in touch with him, he wouldn't have tried.

It occurred to him that maybe there was someone else, now, who knew Kenma better than he did. The thought was dizzying, like looking over the edge of a bridge at water or cars rushing below, an anxious pull behind his stomach that compelled him to jump.

The phone buzzed in his hands, startling him into dropping it. Kuroo watched as his phone skittered across the floor and disappeared under the edge of a washing machine.

"Fuck," he said, with feeling.

He glanced around, grateful at least that the shop was deserted, although it didn't give him much hope for retrieving his phone, then he slid off the chair and dropped to his knees on the concrete floor. Crouching down on all fours, he could see his phone just out of reach under the machine. With a sigh, Kuroo sat up on his heels and looked around for something to help; a broom, a ruler, something he could use to retrieve the phone.

At last, he spotted a pen left with an open newspaper on top of a nearby machine. He reached over and grabbed the edge of the paper, pulling it over the edge of the machine and onto the floor. The pen clattered to the ground, just out of reach. The newspaper lay open on a page of puzzles, half of them filled in and then abandoned.

Using the pen as a lever, Kuroo hooked his phone out from under the machine, then settled down again in his seat with the page of puzzles spread over his lap.

Mercifully, his phone had remained in one piece, and Kuroo took a deep breath before opening up the message that had startled him in the first place. It was from Kenma. Kuroo flicked it open quickly, his heart skipping up to lodge in his throat.

_Work is busy this week_

The words rang clearly in Kuroo's head, almost as if he were listening to Kenma say them. The total lack of apology made him smile, even as a part of him wanted to throttle Kenma for not saying that earlier in the week. Maybe he thought Kuroo wouldn't notice if he didn't respond.

While Kuroo sat pondering his response, Kenma texted him again.

_Can we get lunch?_

Kuroo started to reply, but then stopped and glanced at the time. It was a little after eleven, and he would probably struggle to make it to the city in time for Kenma's lunch break.

 _Stuck doing laundry :(_ , he replied, while contemplating pulling his stuff out of the machine wet and just coming back to wash it later.

_Yeah you're right it's late_

Kuroo sighed. He suspected that Kenma might use his lack of enthusiasm as an excuse to slip away again, so he quickly sent another message.

_After you finish?_

To his relief, Kenma's reply was swift. _It will be late, we're busy_

 _I'll bring you something to eat_ , Kuroo wrote back, before stopping to consider that Kenma might not like it. He'd already been told off once for his overbearing behaviour; Kuroo really had to dial it back if he didn't want to scare Kenma away.

_You're incorrigible_

Kuroo relaxed in his seat, unaware until he did so that he'd been sitting up straight, his shoulders tense.

 _That wasn't a no_ , he replied, starting to smile as he pictured Kenma's reaction to the message. _It's only normal that you missed me, I'm a fascinating person_

It took Kenma a little while to respond again, but this time, Kuroo wasn't worried. It seemed unfair, that he could be so concerned about Kenma's responses one minute, and perfectly content with his long silences the next. When they were in high school, or when they started university, they had gone for days—sometimes weeks—without talking or expecting a response. Kuroo had always known then that Kenma would reel back in when he was ready, but the years of silence between them had made him doubt his own intuition.

The door to the little shop opened and a middle aged woman walked in, herding two small children in front of her. She nodded to Kuroo, who greeted her politely while she set down her heavy-looking bag of laundry in a far corner.

Kuroo started to get up, offering to help, but she gave him a suspicious look and waved him back to his chair. The children, two boys, watched him with open curiosity. One was holding a toy truck, the other had a finger up his nose.

"Onii-san," one said after a minute, taking a brazen step closer to him. He pointed to Kuroo's t-shirt. "What's on your shirt?"

The colour drained from Kuroo's face, and he looked down at himself to confirm his fears. The ‘spoopy' t-shirt had been a gift from Bokuto. In his haste to find something that wasn't bound for the laundry pile, Kuroo had forgotten that the writing on the t-shirt, when paired with a jacket, lost a couple of crucial letters.

"It says poop!" the other boy shouted, finally withdrawing his finger from his nose, and reaching out to grab Kuroo's shirt with the same hand.

Kuroo withdrew quickly, leaning back out of their reach. "It means spooky," he said, trying to decide whether pulling open his jacket to show them the whole thing, or snatching it closed, would cause more of a problem.

"I wanna see!" yelled the boy with the truck.

The woman in the corner looked up from shoving her laundry into one of the machines, and scowled at Kuroo.

"Kenji! Hakaru! Stop bothering the young man."

"Sorry," Kuroo called out, unsure why he was apologising but feeling that it was needed all the same.

The boys dragged their heels across the shop, glancing back at Kuroo as they went. He sank into his chair again, hunching his shoulders and lifting his phone to hide behind.

 _This is why Yaku is mean to you_ , Kenma had replied.  
_Your ego is terrible_

Kuroo laughed under his breath and cradled the phone like a talisman. He was tempted to tell Kenma about the boys, but decided he could save the story to tell later that evening. It gave him the dual benefit of having something to talk about if Kenma was proving particularly difficult to draw out, and meant that he could watch Kenma's reaction in real time. Very little seemed to make Kenma laugh as much as Kuroo being humiliated in public. It was a small price to pay

 _Let me know when and where_  
_I don't mind waiting for you_

He could almost hear Kenma's sigh in response.

_Don't embarrass me if my colleagues are around_

Kuroo grinned.

 

 

In the end Kuroo didn't get the chance to embarrass Kenma. Kuroo left his _spoopy_ shirt on, just to make his retelling of the story that much more vivid, though he covered it up with a scarf and a sweater to make up for the inadequacy of his jacket in keeping out the cold of late February.

Kenma didn't manage to sneak up on him this time. They met at a station again near Kenma's workplace, and Kuroo spotted him from a distance as he tried to move against the crowd of commuters. He waved his arm and shouted. Kenma looked up and caught his eye, then put his head down again as though Kuroo had shamed him deeply.

"Hey," Kuroo said when Kenma finally forded the river of people and crashed into his arm, a disgruntled look on his face. "Have I got a treat for you."

"I don't know," Kenma said, staring back placidly. "Have you?"

Kuroo snorted. He shrugged his backpack off one shoulder, and reached around to unzip it. Kenma was watching him closely, waiting to see what he would produce, though his expression was one of affected disinterest. Kuroo hesitated for a moment to build the suspense, then he withdrew his prize with a flourish, and handed it to Kenma.

Kenma looked at the bottle in his hands. "Barley tea?"

"You like it, right?"

"It's fine," Kenma muttered, turning away slightly so that his face was hidden from Kuroo. He unscrewed the bottle cap and took a small sip.

"So, what are we doing?"

Kenma looked up at him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I don’t really want to go to a bar,” he muttered after a moment, looking away again.

Kuroo cracked a smile. “I never thought you would.” He nudged Kenma’s arm gently with his elbow. “How about a movie? We haven’t done that in a really long time.”

To his delight, Kenma smiled a tiny smile in response. “Maybe because your taste in movies sucks.”

“Kenma,” Kuroo said with affection. “I’m going to show you _just how bad_ my taste can be.”

“You can buy the tickets then.”

Kuroo felt like he was full of sunshine. “Deal.”

 

 

The weekend before Kuroo started his new job, he reluctantly unpacked the rest of his clothes in an attempt to find his missing ties, but eventually gave them up for lost. Briefly, he considered asking Kenma to join him on a trip to replace them, but Kenma enjoyed shopping about as much as he enjoyed being separated from his playstation, so Kuroo invited Suga instead, and thought about texting Kenma the whole time.

"What about this one?" Suga said, holding up a striped shirt.

Kuroo took a picture of it, grinning. "Too flashy for school, probably."

"Nonsense," Suga said, turning to look at himself and the shirt in the mirror. "It's blue. Blue is perfectly adequate." He glanced over his shoulder at Kuroo. "Why are you taking a picture if it's too flashy?"

"I want to show Kenma."

Suga made a low, thoughtful sound that held the promise of danger. "So, you two are seeing a lot of each other again?"

Preoccupied with his phone, it took a few moments for Kuroo to process what Suga had said. He looked up with a frown. "Huh? Not really. We've only hung out a couple of times." He glanced back at his phone and hit send on the message. “We went to a terrible movie last weekend, Kenma fell asleep. Pretty standard.”

"Well,” Suga said lightly, “I'm glad you're talking again. Konoha said Kenma fell off the map for a while there."

"I guess so," Kuroo said, shrugging. "But I think I did too. It's tricky with everyone being so spread out."

"Mhmm."

Kuroo looked at him. "What is it?"

"What's what?" Suga said, blinking back at him innocently.

Kuroo's phone buzzed and he swiped it open to read Kenma's reply.

_Is Suga buying that? It's horrible_

_He wants me to buy it_

_Don't_

"Sorry," Kuroo said, holding up his phone with an apologetic grin. "Kenma vetoed the shirt."

Suga raised an eyebrow. "Kenma did?"

Kuroo scowled as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. "I see you," he muttered.

"I didn't say anything judgmental."

"You don't have to."

Suga gave him a long, considering look. "Does it matter what I think?”

Kuroo shrugged. His phone buzzed with another text, but he resisted the urge to check it. Something about Suga’s attitude had made him feel self-conscious and snappish. He turned away and flicked through a few racks of dull clothing, shoving hangers aside with a soft screech of metal on metal. He was conscious of Suga moving around behind him, carefully not saying anything. It made Kuroo feel more frustrated; he wished Suga would just say whatever he was thinking.

The shop was too much all of a sudden. Too small, the racks too close together, the music too loud. Kuroo snatched up a couple of plain shirts and a grey tie and headed for the checkout.

“Don’t you want to try them?” Suga asked, skipping along behind him.

“They’ll be fine.”

“I thought you said you needed more than one tie?” Suga sounded exasperated.

Kuroo shook his head. He did need another tie, but he couldn't face being in that shop any longer. Suga stood close to him while he waited behind a young couple at the checkout. They were arguing good-naturedly over a sweater, the young woman trying to persuade her boyfriend to buy it. They went back and forth several times, throwing each other flirty glances.

"God," Kuroo snapped after a minute of this. "Just buy the fucking sweater!"

They both turned to look at him with matching stunned expressions.

"Sorry," Suga said quickly, stepping between Kuroo and the couple. "I dared him to do that, sorry for intruding on your shopping trip. That's a lovely sweater by the way, it brings out your eyes—”

Kuroo didn't stop to hear any more. He turned and slapped the clothes he was holding down on top of a display table, before stalking away in the direction of the exit. By the time he reached the door, angry tears were burning in the corners of his eyes, and his throat felt thick and tight.

Suga caught up with him a few steps out of the shop, taking hold of Kuroo's arm gently as he drew level.

“Kuroo,” he said urgently. “Hey, what's wrong?”

The words gathered up on Kuroo’s tongue, an explanation for his stupid behaviour. He was already starting to regret the way he'd reacted; what must Suga think of him?

“Kuroo?” Suga said, more gently, running his hand up to Kuroo's shoulder. “Tetsurou.”

“Sorry,” Kuroo said finally, rubbing his hands over his face. His eyes were still burning, but he hadn't actually started crying, so that was something.

“Tetsurou,” Suga said again, his voice calm but stern. He gripped Kuroo's shoulder. “You're having a panic attack. You need to sit down.”

Kuroo shook his head. “I'm fine,” he tried to say, but his words came out shaky, his breath uneven.

Grabbing hold of his arm, Suga steered him to a nearby bench. Kuroo sat down abruptly and covered his face again with both hands. He felt Suga sit down beside him, and then a hand pressed firmly between his shoulders.

“Put your head down,” Suga said quietly.

Obediently Kuroo folded forward, putting his head between his knees, and then resting his hands on the back of his head. It reminded him of the safety procedures on a plane, and he mumbled to himself, “Assume crash positions.”

“Hmm?” Suga hummed, leaning forward too. His hand still rested on Kuroo's back, rubbing gently back and forth.

The touch was soothing, but it reminded him uncomfortably of the time he'd spent at Bokuto's place after his breakup with Akina. Bokuto hadn't questioned it when Kuroo showed up on his doorstep one night with a hastily packed bag and red-rimmed eyes. Knowing Bokuto, he probably didn't think it was that strange.

They had gone out drinking the next night with Bokuto's teammates, and Kuroo hadn't stopped until he couldn't walk. He only remembered the night in snatches, ending in him wrapped around Bokuto's toilet, while Bokuto rubbed his back and stroked his hair, and let him cry until he couldn't cry any more.

“How do you feel now?” Suga asked after a minute or so had passed, putting his hands back in his lap.

Kuroo sat up slowly, taking stock. He felt miserable. He felt humiliated. At the same time, he felt hollow, like an empty shell of a person.

“Fine.”

Suga cleared his throat. “Want to talk about what happened in there?”

Kuroo sighed, but his lungs felt tight, full of poison. Nothing he could clear with a simple sigh. He forced himself to smirk, glancing sidelong at Suga's carefully concerned expression. “Hey, I just really wanted him to buy that sweater.”

Suga smiled back at him, equally false. “Bullshit, Kuroo,” he said sweetly. Then, more seriously, he asked, “How long have you been feeling like this?”

“Like what?”

Suga just looked worried. “Have you thought about whether you might be depressed?” When Kuroo didn't respond, Suga hesitated for a moment before pressing on. “Any low mood, lethargy—”

“I know what depression is, thanks,” Kuroo muttered crossly, glancing away. “It's nothing like that, I'm fine.”

He waited, but Suga didn't say anything else. Kuroo watched people walking by; more couples holding hands, schoolkids talking loudly and laughing, parents with pushchairs. He still felt hollow, all the emotion and pent up frustration having melted away and left nothing behind.

“Kuroo,” Suga said softly.

With reluctance, Kuroo turned to look at him. Suga's messy hair needed cutting, and he had traces of acne around his mouth and jaw, probably from the stress of his job. Kuroo suddenly couldn't bear to be near him, and how drab he seemed; the way he, like Kuroo, seemed to have become fixed in time, unchanging. He wondered if Suga ever worried or doubted himself as much as Kuroo did, or whether he was really as carefree as he seemed.

“I should get home,” Kuroo said, unconvincingly. He got up on shaky legs and ran his fingers through his hair. “Thanks for coming with me, sorry the trip was kind of a washout.”

“Don't you need a tie for tomorrow?”

Kuroo winced. “I'll pick one up, it'll be fine.”

“No no,” Suga said, getting to his feet. “You stay there. _Don't_ move.”

Suga turned and walked quickly back to the shop they had left minutes earlier. Kuroo was tempted to leave, but then he would have to deal with Suga being upset, or chasing him up later. In the end he crossed the street and bought something to eat from a grumpy vendor, walking back slowly to where Suga had left him.

Kuroo had only managed to swallow one piece of takoyaki when Suga returned, having found that he wasn't so hungry after all. The takoyaki was good, he thought, but the sensation of it in his mouth made him feel ill.

“Here,” Suga said, holding out a small paper carrier bag.

“Trade you,” Kuroo replied, raising his hand with the takoyaki.

Suga's eyes brightened. “Deal,” he said, reaching for the bag and helping himself to one of the takoyaki balls.

Kuroo accepted the carrier bag in return. “Thanks, Suga,” he said, feeling a little guilty for wanting him gone, but not enough to prolong the outing.

“It's not much,” Suga said, speaking around his mouthful of food. “Shall I walk you to the station?”

Kuroo shook his head. “I need to clear my thoughts.”

“Alright then,” Suga said in a doubtful voice. “Please, though, promise me you'll talk to someone—”

“I will, I will.”

 

 

Kuroo’s first day at Yasogami High came around far too quickly. His mom drove them both to the school, while Kuroo stared anxiously out of the windows at the familiar neighbourhoods rolling by.

"Nervous?" she asked, while they sat waiting at a traffic light.

Kuroo shook his head. "Not nervous," he said, turning to watch an old man walking a dog.

"You're fidgeting," she said lightly.

It was true. Kuroo hadn't realised but he was tapping his fingers against the window in an offbeat rhythm, and his right knee bounced under his hand. He winced and stilled the movements.

"Just distracted," he said, turning to look at her.

She didn't meet his eyes, but smiled in a way that meant she didn't buy his bullshit for a moment. "Is it about Kenma-kun?"

Kuroo looked away again. "No." A silence fell between them, and after a moment he sighed. "Maybe, I guess."

"I can clear out for an evening if you want to invite him over," she said. There was something odd about her tone, but when Kuroo turned to look at her, her expression was perfectly placid. She must have realised that he was watching her, because she smiled and glanced at him briefly. "I just mean that it's been a long time. Maybe he feels awkward about seeing me. Either way, I don't mind."

Suddenly, Kuroo remembered something from his first reunion with Kenma. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again, considering. But his mother knew him far too well, and glanced over again.

"What is it?"

Kuroo frowned. "When I first ran into Kenma the other week, he asked about you. He told me to say sorry."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sorry for what?"

"He didn't say." Kuroo looked at her. "I thought you might know."

"Sorry, kiddo," she said, shrugging. "Beats me."

Kuroo sighed and turned to look out of the window again. They had almost reached the school, and he recognised a couple of early risers in their school uniform walking along the pavement. They must be going in for club meetings, he thought, and was reminded with a pang of early volleyball practices. Some days he'd had to practically drag Kenma out of bed to get him there on time, and by third year he'd taken to leaving his house an extra ten minutes early just to make sure that Kenma would be ready to leave on time.

He wondered what Kenma would say if Kuroo invited him over to his mother's apartment. It was a long time since Kenma had been there; maybe not since college, when his own parents had moved away. It was possible that he would like the idea, the reminders of their shared childhood, of sleepovers, late nights and early mornings.

"I'll ask him," he said at last.

"Go ahead," his mother said, picking up the loose thread of the conversation. She turned and grinned at him. "Or just get your own place, and invite him over there instead."

"Yeah, yeah," Kuroo muttered, turning to glare out of the window.

They pulled into the school car park, and Kuroo fetched the bentos he'd made out of the back seat. He had been to the school twice before; first, the day of his interview, and second, his orientation training the previous week. It was bigger than Nekoma, but he already half knew his way around. He didn't have a homeroom class, so he still had a little time this morning to set up the classroom and hopefully iron out any potential IT issues. He'd already met most of the staff, including the old science teacher that he was taking over from.

"This way, kiddo," his mom called out to him, when he started to drift across the car park. He snapped to attention, realising that he'd been unconsciously moving toward the gym behind the activities building. Kuroo hurried to fall in step with her and together they went inside.

 

 

As first days went, it wasn't bad. His students were fairly attentive and well behaved, his colleagues were friendly—almost _too_ friendly, seeing as they all already knew his mother—and the relief at throwing himself back into a routine was overwhelming.

Kuroo checked his phone at lunch while he walked from the lab to the staff room. Technically he shouldn’t have had his phone on him until he was safely out of sight of students, but he already felt emotionally drained from his busy morning, and the hallway was fairly quiet, so he decided to chance it. There were messages from Suga and Bokuto wishing him luck and checking in, but he ignored them at first in favour of reading the text from Kenma.

_Know any good jokes about sodium?_

Kuroo grinned. _No, do you?_

_Na_

The joke was a familiar one, but it made him laugh out loud to hear it from Kenma.

_Did you know there’s no good chemistry jokes anymore?_

Almost immediately, Kenma replied. _Of course. All the good ones Argon._

Kuroo stifled his snigger against his shoulder.

 _You’re my favourite_  
_Wanna hang out soon? Help me celebrate the new job?_

_Sure_

_You’re welcome to come by, mom said it’s cool_  
_She also said she’ll make herself scarce if it would be weird?_

“Excuse me, Kuroo-san?”

Kuroo looked up in surprise and met eyes with a young woman, about his age or a little younger. He’d been so wrapped up in his phone that he’d almost walked right into her. “Hey!” he said, quickly tucking his phone in his pocket while he struggled to remember her name. “Uh—Nita-san, is that right?”

She nodded, starting to smile. “You know,” she said quietly, gesturing him to lean closer. “If the vice-principal sees you with that in the hallway, he won't hesitate to refute you, even in front of the students.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened. “He'll refute me?” he said, a sly smile crawling onto his face.

Nita blushed and covered her mouth with her hand for a moment. “Oh gosh, I'm sorry,” she said, unable to meet his eyes. “I meant rebuke. I mix up words when I'm nervous.”

“Why would you be nervous?” he asked, laughing gently.

“No, no, I'm just—” She sighed and straightened her shoulders, glancing up to meet his eyes once more. “You're right, it's silly.”

Kuroo replied with an easy smile. “I didn't say it was silly.”

After a moment she returned his smile tentatively. “So,” she said, rallying. “You're not lost, are you?”

“Heading to the staff room,” he said with a crooked smile. “Said I'd have lunch with my mom.”

Nita’s eyes widened. “Oh goodness, that's right, I thought it was just a coincidence that you had the same family name—but of course, I remember Kuroo-san saying that her son is a teacher too.”

“Guilty,” Kuroo said, anxiously clutching his phone in his pocket. “Are you walking the same way?”

Nita was, so the two of them walked the rest of the short distance, making small talk. Kuroo had so far managed to avoid too much frittering interaction with the other teachers, but he knew he'd have to face it sooner or later. He wasn't sure why he felt such dread about the idea of meeting a new set of colleagues; he liked people, and normally he was good at manufacturing enough nonsense to get him through any short to mid-length encounter with an acquaintance, but lately it had been harder and harder to do it with a smile.

When they reached the staff room he was quickly pulled into another conversation and a round of introductions. Kuroo did his best to commit the names to memory, absentmindedly running his thumb along the side of his phone the whole time, eager to check and see if Kenma had replied.

“Tetsu?”

Kuroo felt a hand on his shoulder and he sagged a little with relief. “Mom, hey,” he said, turning to her with a desperate smile.

His mother raised an eyebrow at him. “Lunch?”

Kuroo nodded.

“Sorry, everyone,” she said, putting her hands on Kuroo’s arm and steering him away. “I need to steal him back for a little while.”

Kuroo let himself be dragged away, giving a little half-hearted wave at Nita, who hid her grin behind the book she was reading. His mom collected the lunches Kuroo had made, and herded him out of the staff room again.

“We can eat in my office,” she said, squeezing his shoulder fondly. “Choshi-san is out today.”

Once they were settled either side of her desk, Kuroo pulled out his phone before picking up his lunch. There was no reply from Kenma. He sank in his chair, sighing.

“Uh-oh,” his mother said, giving him a severe look. “That doesn’t sound promising.”

Kuroo dredged up a self-deprecating smile. “Just waiting on Kenma,” he said, shrugging while he picked listlessly at his rice. “He's really busy at work, I'm sure it's nothing.”

“Mmhmm.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

His mother shrugged. “I know you don't want to push him, but maybe that's what he needs.”

“And if I push him and it's too much?” Kuroo snapped. “Then what? We don't talk for another three years?”

“I was just saying.”

Kuroo sighed and bowed his head. “I know, I'm sorry.”

She reached across the desk, pushing aside a stack of exercise books, and took his hand. “I wish I could be more help to you.”

“Meaning what?”

“Tetsu, honey, I can see that you're hurting.” She let out a little sigh and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

Kuroo laughed uncertainly. “It's fine, he's just busy, he'll—”

“That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it.” She squeezed his hand gently. “If I knew how to make it better, I would.”

“Oh my god, mom, you're creeping me out,” Kuroo said, pulling his hand away. “Since when do you get all touchy feely?”

She huffed in frustration. “I'm still a mother.”

Kuroo winced. “Yeah, but—you're not normally so…” He trailed off, and she gave him an imperious look.

“So what?”

“Nothing,” Kuroo said, slumping in his seat. “I dunno.”

She tutted at him. “I'm worried, Tetsu. You've been different since you moved back.”

“I got dumped!”

“And I'm sorry about that, but you can't just keep playing that card forever.”

Kuroo felt himself bristle. “It's not a performance,” he said, hearing his own voice climb, and hating it.

“I know, I know,” she said soothingly. “I think...maybe you should talk to someone about how you’ve been feeling.”

“My friends are sick of hearing it,” Kuroo said with a snort. He sighed and shook his head, remembering how snappish he’d been with Bokuto the last few times they’d spoken, and how Yaku had seemed bored by his problems. “I dunno, I’ve been kind of useless I guess. Everyone has breakups.” He closed his eyes briefly; his head was starting to hurt, tension gathering in his temples and behind his eyes. Reaching up, he ran his fingers through his hair, catching handfuls and tugging on it to try and alleviate some of the pressure. “I just—I just need to get over it. I _am_ over it, my head just needs to catch up. I just have to stop being so pathetic, and stop whining to Bokuto and Yaku and everyone all the time.”

“Headache?” his mother asked after a moment.

Wincing, Kuroo dropped his hands to his lap and nodded.

“I have something in my bag,” she said, getting up to grab her bag from a cabinet on the other side of the room.

Kuroo watched absently as she started to rummage through its contents. They both had a tendency to overpack for every situation; Kuroo was always the person with plasters, an extra water bottle, antiseptic spray.

Coming back to the desk, his mother passed him a packet of pills and a bottle. “Tetsu,” she said hesitantly, and Kuroo braced himself. “When I said you should talk to someone, I didn’t necessarily mean a friend.”

Kuroo didn’t reply for a moment, focusing on popping out the pills from their foil wrapper, on the satisfying sound of the foil when he broke it. He took a swig from the bottle and swallowed the pills. Even with the water, he could feel them against his throat as he swallowed. When he was done, his mother was watching him expectantly. Kuroo narrowed his eyes at her.

“So you mean...what, a professional?”

“Or a doctor, maybe.”

Kuroo stared at her. “You think there’s something wrong with me?”

Raising her hand, she started checking off on her fingers. “You hardly sleep, you’ve lost so much weight I barely recognise you, you—”

“What the hell, mom?” Kuroo said, getting up from his chair suddenly. “First Suga, now you? Why is everyone getting on my case? There’s nothing wrong with me!”

“Why’re you getting so angry about it?”

Kuroo floundered. The truth was that he didn't know, only that he felt raw, like he was covered in carpet burn, and every touch or wrong word made him feel it again.

“Tetsurou?”

“I don’t...I don’t know.” He deflated slowly, and sank back into his seat. He felt like crying, but his eyes remained dry. Just as well. Going to his afternoon classes with red eyes would be unthinkable.

For a minute or so they sat in silence. Kuroo stared down at the food he had barely touched, wondering when the last time was that he’d eaten a proper meal; he thought it might have been the night he went out with Yaku, the night he ran into Kenma at the station. At last his mother got up again and came around the desk. She pulled Kuroo out of his seat, and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

It was strange, holding her like this. He’d been taller than her since he was fifteen, but she seemed somehow smaller than he remembered; her shoulders felt thin and brittle, as though he could snap her if he weren’t careful.

“For starters,” she said at last, pulling back from him. “Eat your lunch, and text Kenma.”

Kuroo smiled weakly. “But—”

“Ah! No buts,” she said, holding up her finger to shush him. “Invite him over. I’ll make plans. And, please, at least _think_ about talking to someone.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

She smiled sadly at him, and reached up to hold his chin gently with her thumb and forefinger. “I love you.”

Kuroo groaned. “I hate when we talk about our feelings.”

“I know you do,” she said, grinning. “Sit down and eat your food.”

“Yes, mom.”

The rest of their lunch break passed quickly, but as Kuroo walked back to his classroom, he felt his phone vibrate. Not wanting to risk his luck by checking it in the hallway twice in one day, he ducked into thae art classroom and opened his messages.

_Sounds good. Wednesday?_

Kuroo felt some of the weight on his chest dissipate.

_Wednesday it is. I’ll make you dinner._

_Okay_

Kuroo sighed happily. What his mother had said was still heavy in his mind, but right then, he didn’t feel it. Kenma was coming over. They would be friends again, and everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please accept my virtual hugs
> 
> comments and kudos help a lot :3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Hello?"_
> 
> _"Tetsu? It's me."_
> 
> _Kuroo's knees went weak, and a shudder rattled through him. "Aki-chan."_

Wednesday afternoon came around slowly, the days made longer by his anticipation of seeing Kenma again. Kuroo had just returned from his lunch break when his phone started to ring. He still had ten minutes until his class arrived, but the number wasn't one that he recognised, and he debated briefly whether or not he should answer it. In the end he gave in and answered on the last ring.

"Hello?"

_"Tetsu? It's me."_

Kuroo's knees went weak, and a shudder rattled through him. "Aki-chan." He swallowed heavily. "You changed your number."

 _"Yeah,"_ she said with an awkward little laugh. _"Some creep at work wouldn't stop texting me."_

"Ah."

 _"I was worried you wouldn't pick up,"_ she said after a moment’s awkward silence. _"I’m glad you did though. How are you?"_

Kuroo licked his bottom lip. "Fine." His eyes flicked around the room, searching for something to say. He and Akina hadn't talked since before Christmas, and he had imagined this conversation a thousand different ways, but now that it was happening, he didn't know where to begin. He wasn't sure he even had anything to say to her at all. "And you?"

 _"Good, thank you."_ There was a pause. _"Working?"_

"I just started at a new school."

_"That's great."_

"Yeah." Another awkward silence followed, but Kuroo didn't try to fill it. He had hated Akina, at first, and then he had missed her with a ferocity that made him angry at her all over again. Kuroo was so unused to feeling angry, really angry, that even the memory of how he'd felt after their breakup was painful.

 _"Sorry,"_ Akina said at last. _"I probably should have just emailed you about it."_

"About what?" Kuroo asked quickly. Possibilities rolled through his mind; what if Akina was pregnant? Or maybe her brother was sick again? Had something happened to Baron?

Akina sighed. _"I got an email about next weekend."_

Next weekend? Kuroo blinked. He tried to think if there was something she'd told him about that he'd since forgotten, but his mind was blank.

 _"About the hotel you booked,"_ she prompted.

"Oh." Kuroo felt his stomach lurch horribly. "I forgot."

 _"That's not like you,"_ she said gently. _"Well, I called them and they said we can cancel, but it's too late for a refund."_

The softness in her voice made him uncomfortable. "I booked it before we broke up," he said testily. "For our anniversary. You might as well keep it, go with a friend."

_"Oh no, I can't next weekend."_

"Don't then. I'll cancel it."

Akina sighed, and Kuroo could hear the edge in her voice when she spoke again. _"How long are we going to be angry with each other? Can't we just put it behind us?"_

" _Is_ it behind us?" he said, biting the inside of his cheek angrily. "Did you stop sleeping with that prick from uni?"

_"It's none of your business who I sleep with."_

"As you've been making perfectly clear for the past year."

 _"Nothing happens in a vacuum, Tetsurou,"_ she said angrily. _"I'm sorry that I slept with someone else, I am, it was wrong. But you were hardly ever there, you—"_

"I was _always_ there—"

 _"No, Tetsu,"_ she snapped. _"No. You were gone a long time before I was. Just because you were still there physically didn't make it any less impossible to get through to you."_

Kuroo stood, frozen. He felt the fight, the anger, drain from his body. Slowly, he maneuvered his shaking limbs into a chair and rested his head in his hand. "What does that mean?" he murmured.

Akina sighed. _"Tetsu, look. I know you're unhappy, and I know you blame it all on me, and on us breaking up, but you haven't really loved me for a long time. You made yourself miserable trying to pretend you could. It's time to move on."_

Kuroo's throat suddenly felt dry; he swallowed a couple of times, trying to dredge up an appropriate response. His mind was a mess, reeling back and forth between what Akina had said, and the arguments they'd had when they broke up. He realised after a few moments that Akina was still speaking, and he forced his brain to tune back into her words.

_"—should take the booking, go with a friend, or take your mom."_

Kuroo bit his cheek again. "Yeah, I’ll think about it."

Akina hesitated briefly. _"Okay,"_ she said softly. _"I'll forward you the email."_

"Yeah. Thanks."

Kuroo made it through the rest of the afternoon with no problems; his class kept him distracted, and it was far easier to slip into the role of dorky science teacher than it was to put up a front with his friends. He passed up the offer of a ride home from his mother when the day ended, electing instead to walk to the supermarket in the fading sunlight, so that he could buy supplies for dinner.

It wasn't until he stood in the produce aisle, holding a cabbage in one hand and a packet of beef in the other, that the impact of his conversation with Akina finally hit him. He put the food down again, dumping his basket by a nearby display, and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

By the time Kenma answered his call, Kuroo had lost his nerve, and the urgency of his feelings had subsided.

 _"Kuro?"_ Kenma said for the second time. _"Kuro, if I picked up the phone for a pocket dial—"_

"No, I'm here," Kuroo said quickly.

Kenma's voice softened. _"Are you okay?"_

"Yeah," Kuroo said, after a moment's hesitation. "I just. I think I have to cancel, sorry."

_"Why?_

"I just have a lot of work," Kuroo fibbed, glancing down at his satchel. It wasn't strictly a lie; the bag was stuffed with worksheets that needed marking, but he could do them after Kenma left, or the next day. "I'm fine, it just—"

 _"Are you?"_ Kenma pressed.

Kuroo chewed on his cheek. He had bitten it so many times that day, he could taste blood on his tongue. "No," he said quietly, his voice breaking. "I'm sorry, can you come over?"

 _"Of course,"_ Kenma said, without a trace of pity or annoyance. _"And don't worry about cooking, I'll bring something."_

"Okay."

_"Go home, take a bath. I'll be there in an hour."_

"Okay."

Kuroo’s mother had already left when he arrived home, planning to spend the evening out with her friends. She had left a note for him on the fridge, a little stick drawing of him and Kenma. She’d drawn Kenma with long hair, the way he had worn it in his early twenties. Kuroo was still curious about when he’d cut it short, and what had prompted the change. It was the kind of question he’d never really had to ask Kenma, because he’d always been around to see Kenma’s decision-making in action.

After tidying up a little, Kuroo did as Kenma had instructed, showering quickly before sinking into a hot bath. He slid down under the water, shutting his eyes and submerging his entire head, leaving just his nose above the water so that he could still breathe. He felt the warm water course through his ears, the air tickling his ear canals as it bubbled out. It was quiet and peaceful, even though his legs were bent up at an awkward angle to allow him to get his head all the way under the water. He could hear, faintly, noise from another apartment echoing through the water, but it was muffled and distant.

Kuroo took several long, deep breaths, feeling himself relax a little more with each. He tapped his knuckles against the side of the bath, listening to the dull thud translated through the water. A part of him was lonely, but it was a good kind of lonely. He knew that it was a finite sensation, that Kenma would arrive soon, and the certainty made the isolation more pleasant for the fact that it would be short-lived.

Eventually he sat up, wincing at the sensation of water dribbling out of his ears. Just as he stood to reach for his towel, he heard a knock at the front door.

Kuroo swore under his breath and hurried to dry himself off roughly, before wrapping the towel around his waist and ducking out of the bathroom to answer the door. Luckily, it was Kenma.

"Hey," Kuroo said, holding the door open for him. "Sorry, I lost track of time."

"I'm early," Kenma said, staring at him.

Kuroo glanced down at himself. "I know, Mom said I'm too skinny, she's probably right. I'll just be a second, alright? Gonna find some clothes."

"Good idea," Kenma said, dragging his gaze away at last. He lifted the bag he was holding. "Hungry?"

"Let’s wait a bit, we can heat it up."

"I'll make tea."

When Kuroo emerged, wearing clean, soft clothing, Kenma was sitting on the couch, and two cups sat steaming on the coffee table; tea for Kuroo, coffee for Kenma.

Kuroo ruffled his damp hair and gave Kenma an awkward smile. "Sorry for dragging you over here."

"I was coming anyway," Kenma said, with a disapproving look. "Why do you think I wouldn't come if you needed me?"

The first thought through Kuroo's head was that Kenma _hadn't_ come when Kuroo needed him, not for years, but he quickly dismissed it, disgusted with himself for even thinking it.

"I don't," he said, shrugging, and sat down at the other end of the couch. "Thanks for the tea."

Kenma nodded and reached for his own cup. Kuroo was a little surprised; he liked to drink his tea as hot as possible, but Kenma disliked hot drinks, and usually waited until they had turned lukewarm before he would touch them. He wondered if Kenma just needed to do something with his hands.

"So," Kuroo said, after a minute or so had passed while they sat in silence. "How's work?"

Kenma turned the cup in his hands. "It's busy, but fine. Is that what you want to talk about?"

"I feel like we still have a lot of catching up to do," Kuroo said, shrugging again. He couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since they sat on this couch together, and what they had talked about the last time.

"I think you have this false impression of me," Kenma said after a moment, staring down into his coffee. "That my life is...different now, or cooler." He looked up at Kuroo, lifting one eyebrow slightly. "It isn’t."

Kuroo tried to smile, but mostly missed. "I think it is."

"Different, maybe," Kenma acknowledged, shrugging one shoulder. "Not much. Definitely not cooler."

"Well, there’s less of me in it," Kuroo said, stretching out one leg and nudging Kenma’s thigh with his toes. "Of course it isn’t as cool."

Kenma gave him a withering look.

"That's more like it," Kuroo said, giving him another nudge. Kenma sighed and slapped his foot away. It didn't really hurt, but Kuroo made a face anyway. He liked this; it felt comfortable, safe. Around Kenma, he felt braver. "I talked to Akina today."

Kenma looked up at him, his expression unchanging. "Yeah?"

Kuroo bit his lip. He realised that he was smiling, so used to acting like everything was okay, that he had forgotten how to turn it off. He put down his tea and ran his hands over his face, feeling almost as though he was scraping off the false expression to replace it with something else. "Yeah," he sighed at last, dropping his hands into his lap. "It’s funny how two people in the same situation can have such different ideas about what’s happening."

"I’m sorry."

"It doesn’t really matter," Kuroo said, shrugging. "It’s not like we were ever going to get back together. I just…" He paused, unsure of how to finish his sentence. Kenma was watching him steadily; Kuroo could feel his eyes without looking, but he didn’t speak. In most cases, Kenma wasn’t a person he thought of as having a lot of patience with other people, sometimes with Kuroo less than anyone, but when Kuroo needed time, or space, Kenma was as patient as a mountain. With a groan, Kuroo covered his face again. "Why do I even care?" he moaned. "We’re done, that’s it. It doesn’t matter if we—"

"Of course it matters."

Kuroo looked up, surprised that Kenma had interrupted him. Kenma was looking away, his mouth tight with more words that he was holding in.

"Kenma?"

Kenma sighed. "Of course it matters," he said again, his words measured. "When you’ve known someone that long, it matters that you understand each other. How could it not? You can’t be with someone you don’t understand at all."

He looked away again when he was done, lifting his coffee to hide his face behind it. Kuroo kept watching him, his mouth open a little in surprise.

"Kenma," he said, starting to smile. "When did you get so wise?"

"It’s obvious, that’s all," Kenma muttered.

Kuroo’s smile widened. "If you say so."

Kenma scowled into his drink until Kuroo had stopped watching him, and then he set it down with a quiet _thunk_ on the table and turned to Kuroo with an impatient expression. "Well?"

"Well what?" Kuroo asked. He was stalling, and he could tell that Kenma knew it. After a few moments of being glared at, he gave up. "Fine. It’s just—I had this idea of why things went wrong between us, and I put a lot of blame on Akina for seeing other people."

"Understandable."

Kuroo nodded. "Yeah, but then there’s always two sides to the story, isn’t there?"

Kenma shrugged.

"It’s not my fault she cheated on me, but it’s not _not_ my fault," Kuroo said, and then, when Kenma looked like he wanted to interrupt, "I mean I know she made her choice and all, but I was a shitty fiancé, you know? There’s a reason she wanted to leave."

For a moment Kenma said nothing. "I’m sorry, Kuro." He ran a finger around the lip of his coffee cup and then stuck it in his mouth. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked the coffee foam from his fingertip, then he slowly lowered his hand and met Kuroo’s eyes. "Were you happy?"

"What do you mean?"

"With Akina," Kenma said, as though he were explaining something simple for the fourteenth time. "Were you?"

"Why do you ask?"

Kenma huffed at his evasion. "Because you just seemed more and more unhappy," he said, sounding almost angry. "Every time we talked, even when you called me after you got engaged. You didn’t sound like someone happy to be in love."

"Oh." Kuroo sat back in his seat, while Kenma’s words settled on him like a heavy fall of snow. "Wow, okay."

Kenma watched him carefully, eyes narrowed slightly. "Am I wrong?"

"No, it's just—Akina said something similar, I guess." Kuroo fell silent, but Kenma prompted him with a subtle arch of his eyebrows. "She thought I didn't love her anymore," Kuroo went on reluctantly. "That I just tried to make myself be in love." Saying it aloud himself, Kuroo was struck by how plausible it sounded, how he could see that maybe she was right.

"Well," Kenma said, glancing up over his drink. "You would."

Kuroo stared at him. "You really think so?"

Kenma snorted. "You can barely say no when someone asks you on a date." He was quiet for a few moments, but Kuroo could tell that he was thinking, choosing his words carefully. "If someone loved you," Kenma went on at last. "Someone you liked and respected, maybe even loved, as a friend—" He shrugged. "Yeah, I think you could convince yourself you were in love."

"Wow," Kuroo said again, into the stunned silence that followed Kenma’s words. He shook himself and reached for his tea. "I'm—I don't know what to say to that."

"At last," Kenma said dryly. "A way to shut you up."

Kuroo smirked over his cup. "I invite you to my house—"

"Your mom's house."

"—cook you dinner—"

"I brought takeout."

Kuroo grinned. "Want to watch a movie or something?"

"Will you talk all the way through it?"

"Depends," Kuroo teased. "Will you fall asleep?"

"Probably."

Kuroo laughed and swung his legs over the edge of the couch. "Okay, I’ll heat up the food." He tossed Kenma the controller for his playstation. "You pick something."

Escaping to the kitchen, Kuroo ran his fingers through his damp hair and took a few slow, shaking breaths. He felt like he'd been hollowed out, all the rot scraped away. The phone call with Akina had brought everything back again, drawing the poison to the surface, and Kenma had delivered the puncture that let it all drain away.

Kuroo found the bag of takeout that Kenma had left on the counter, and shoved a few containers in the microwave. He still had some beers in the fridge, and he briefly considered opening one to steady his nerves, but he didn’t want to end up drinking more than he planned and be fuzzy headed for work the next day. It was challenging enough being the New Guy.

After they’d eaten, Kuroo tried to focus on the movie Kenma had chosen, but his whole body felt heavy, and he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Hey," Kenma said softly, reaching over to pause the movie. "Should I go?"

Kuroo shook his head. "Just tired, weird being back at work." Kenma was sitting tucked up at the other end of the couch, and Kuroo badly wanted to curl up beside him, to throw himself into Kenma's space the way he never used to think twice about doing.

"You're too big for this couch," Kenma said after a few moments.

"Is that an observation or a complaint?"

With a sigh that indicated unending suffering, Kenma swung his feet around to the floor and lifted his hands from his lap, then turned and looked at Kuroo expectantly. When Kuroo didn’t move, Kenma sighed again. "Well?"

"You don’t mind?" Kuroo murmured, shuffling down the couch. He gingerly lifted his feet and put them down in Kenma’s lap.

Leaning over, Kenma unpaused the movie, then sat back and lowered his hands to rest on Kuroo’s ankles.

"Hey," Kuroo said after a minute, digging one of his heels into Kenma’s thigh. "Rub my feet? I feel like I haven't sat down since Sunday."

"Didn’t they give you a desk?"

"Yeah, but I’m mostly on my feet while I’m teaching." He wiggled his toes against Kenma’s leg. "C’mon, please? Just for a minute."

Kenma groaned. "Rub your own nasty feet," he muttered, but only a few minutes passed before he slipped his hand inside the ankle of Kuroo’s sweatpants and started to massage his calf.

Kuroo sank down into the couch with a long sigh. "You're the best," he murmured sleepily.

"Yeah, yeah," Kenma muttered. He moved his hands down to grasp Kuroo's foot and started to massage it firmly, digging his thumb into the ball and kneading out the tension.

While Kenma touched him, Kuroo closed his eyes and relaxed back into the couch. The movie washed over him while he went heavy and boneless, his attention drifting. After a little while, Kenma picked up his other foot and repeated the motions from the first. Kenma had always had clever hands, although when he was younger he'd been susceptible to repetitive strain in his hands and wrists from the sheer amount of time he spent playing games. It had become Kuroo's unofficial job, to make sure that Kenma remembered to stretch his hands and arms if they were spending time together. Volleyball had been good in that sense, because it had gotten Kenma into the routine of stretching every day, and meant he had to be more careful about exposing himself to avoidable injuries.

"Kuro," Kenma said softly, releasing his grip on Kuroo's ankle.

"Mm."

Kenma ran his fingertips along the top of Kuroo's foot, from the tip of his big toe to his ankle. It made Kuroo shiver pleasantly, a splinter of arousal lodging in the base of his spine. It was too long since anyone had really touched him, and he realised that he missed the intimacy of being around other people more than he'd thought.

"You can stop," Kuroo muttered, withdrawing his feet quickly.

"Fine."

"Felt nice," Kuroo said, trying to make his awkward shifting look casual, and not as though he were trying to hide a semi. "You're good at that."

Kenma shrugged. "Eh."

They both turned their attention back to the movie. Kuroo hadn't really been following, but it seemed to be approaching some kind of climax. He hoped that Kenma hadn't noticed him getting turned on. It felt weird to be worried about it; they had each walked in on each other jerking off before, and had spent half their lives sharing showers and baths.

When it ended, Kenma rolled over and stretched, and one of his knees pressed against Kuroo's leg.

"Good movie?"

Kenma snorted. "I knew you weren't watching."

"Gimme a break," Kuroo said, nudging Kenma's knee with his foot. "I had a hard day."

"Mm. It was okay." Kenma nudged back with his knee. "Good CGI."

"Yeah."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Kuroo thought about checking the time; he wasn't sure how much longer they had until his mother would be heading home. Part of him didn't want to look, as if knowing the time would somehow make the evening pass by faster. It didn't feel like long enough to spend with Kenma, and despite saying they should catch up, he still knew almost nothing about the years that Kenma had been absent from his life.

"Hey," he said, with a sudden spark of inspiration. "Do you wanna go away with me next weekend?"

The question was out before Kuroo had time to think it over. He waited for a moment, but Kenma didn’t reply, and Kuroo barrelled on, feeling compelled to explain.

"See, I booked this hotel and forgot about it, and it's too late to cancel." Kenma continued to say nothing. Kuroo felt a nervous smile creep onto his face. "Just one bed, so we'd have to bunk up, but that's nothing new, right?"

A familiar look stole over Kenma’s face, something that was almost as bad as the nose scrunch, if not worse. It meant that Kenma felt sorry for him. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to go," he said quietly, looking away from Kuroo.

"Right, yeah, of course not," Kuroo said quickly. "You're right, it's a stupid idea, sorry—"

"Kuro, it's fine," Kenma said, sounding almost cross. He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear as he turned back to Kuroo, his expression softening. "You should ask Bokuto, you two would have fun."

"Yeah," Kuroo said, nodding absently. His stomach felt hollow with disappointment. "Good idea," he said with forced cheer. "I'll ask if he's free."

Before either of them could fill the awkward quiet, Kuroo's phone buzzed, and he took it out to check it.

"Mom's on her way home. You wanna wait and say hi?"

Kenma was already shaking his head. "I should get home, I have an early start."

"Okay."

They both got to their feet, and Kuroo leaned against the wall while he watched Kenma slip on his shoes and jacket.

"Let's do something," Kuroo said, as Kenma shrugged his bag over his shoulder. "When you're not busy."

Kenma actually smiled at that. "I'm always busy," he said, looking up at Kuroo from beneath his messy fringe. "But I'll make time for you, obviously."

"Obviously," Kuroo agreed, although it wasn't at all. "I'll say hi to Mom for you."

"And Bokuto," Kenma sighed.

Kuroo laughed at him. "Yeah, him too."

They held each other's gaze for a few moments longer, until Kuroo felt embarrassed and looked down at the floor. "Thank you, for coming."

"I was coming anyway."

Kuroo groaned, and gave Kenma a look of fond annoyance. "You know what I mean. Thank you for...pushing me, I guess."

"Sometimes you need it."

"Yeah."

Kenma reached out suddenly and wrapped his fingers around Kuroo's forearm. His hands were a little cold, but his thumb tucked neatly into the crook of Kuroo's elbow and rubbed gently back and forth.

"I'm not—" he began, and broke off awkwardly, frowning. "I haven't been a good friend to you," he murmured at last. "I thought it would be better if I was around less." His mouth twisted unhappily. "But I think I just made it worse."

"What are you talking about?" Kuroo asked quietly. "Why wouldn't I want you around?"

Kenma's frown deepened; Kuroo could tell he was getting frustrated, and trying not to. "That's not it, I know you would, but I'm talking about whether I _should be_." He sighed and squeezed Kuroo's arm again before letting go. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"Hey, wait," Kuroo said, grabbing hold of his hand. "Didn't you just yell at me earlier for acting like it doesn't matter?"

Kenma rolled his eyes. "For once you were listening."

"I always listen."

"Yeah." Kenma sounded unconvinced, which was standard.

In place of feeling brave enough to lean in and steal a hug, Kuroo squeezed Kenma’s fingers gently before letting go. "Text me, yeah?"

Kenma huffed.

"That’s a yes, right?"

"I’m going."

"Goodnight to you too," Kuroo said, starting to grin.

Kenma rolled his eyes and made a grab for the door. He hesitated as he left, casting Kuroo a brief backward glance, and then he was gone.

 

 

 

The following day, Kuroo escaped to his mom's car on his lunch break so that he could call Bokuto in peace. After Kenma had left the night before, Kuroo had felt a little jilted by his refusal, but now he felt relieved that Kenma had turned him down. Things still felt fragile and unpredictable with Kenma, but Bokuto was a known quantity in a way that Kenma had used to be, and he was probably the best candidate to help take Kuroo’s mind off Akina.

_"Kuroo! How's it going, man?"_

"Hey, Kou," Kuroo said fondly. "You busy?"

 _"Nah, nah,"_ Bokuto said. _"How's things with you? New job going okay?"_

"Yeah, not bad," Kuroo said, settling back on his bed with a sigh. "So, I have a question. Well, an invitation I guess."

_"Ask away!"_

"Yeah, so, I was wondering if you were free next weekend. And if you are, do you wanna go with me for a dirty weekend to celebrate our anniversary?"

Bokuto gasped. _"Tetsu!"_ he said, sounding scandalised. _"I thought you'd never ask me!"_

Kuroo laughed softly. "Yeah, well. I booked this fancy spa package for Akina and me, totally forgot about it. And it's too late to cancel, so..."

 _"Ah ah ah,"_ Bokuto said, shushing him. _"Me and my best bro are going away for a dirty weekend to celebrate our anniversary."_

"Yeah," Kuroo said, laughing gratefully. "Mom said I could borrow the car, I gotta collect some stuff from Akina's place while we're down there, that cool?"

_"Sure, man, if you're okay with that."_

Kuroo sighed. "Yeah, well. It's gotta be done. I guess I could just tell her to throw it out, but—" He trailed off suddenly, stunned by how it had taken him so long to realise. "Shit. I just—fuck."

_"Uh, Tetsu?"_

"Baron!" Kuroo said excitedly. "I didn't even think of it, but I can probably pick him up on the way back when I grab my stuff."

 _"Dude, you had me so worried,"_ Bokuto said reproachfully.

Kuroo started to laugh again. "Shit, I need to text Akina about it. Fuck, this is awesome, I'm so excited."

Bokuto made a doubtful noise. _"You know, I feel like you're more excited about the cat than you are about our sexy getaway."_

"My apologies," Kuroo said seriously.

 _"It's like you don't even notice me anymore,"_ Bokuto complained, playing up the hurt in his voice.

"Kou," Kuroo sighed, smiling to himself. "Come on, you know I love you."

 _"Yes!"_ Bokuto yelled, making Kuroo glad he'd taken the call outside. _"Hey, do I need to bring anything?"_

"I dunno, how revealing is your bikini?"

Bokuto cackled. _"Dude, I am bringing the tiniest pair of speedos, and nothing can stop me."_

"Can't wait."

_"Seriously, Tetsu, thanks for asking me. It'll be good, yeah?"_

"Yeah. I'll text you next week about travel plans and stuff, okay?"

_"Woah, woah, going already? We just started talking!"_

Kuroo glanced back at the school entrance with a groan. It was starting to rain, just lightly, but the sun was still shining through the clouds. "I don't have long left on my lunch break."

 _"Fine, fine, gimme the rundown then,"_ Bokuto said, sounding put-out. _"How's your mom? Ooh, have you seen Kenma again? Was it weird? Do you still think he's cute?"_

"What? No!" Kuroo said, mortified to feel his ears getting hot at the suggestion. "I've known him since we were six, you creep."

_"You're the one who said it!"_

Kuroo dropped his head onto the steering wheel and groaned again loudly. "Kou—u."

_"Alright, alright. Seriously though, things are okay?"_

"Things are fine, dude," Kuroo sighed. "Everyone keeps asking me that. Work is fine, Kenma is fine, and next weekend I get to hang out with you for three days."

_"You're one lucky dude."_

"That I am," Kuroo said, glancing out of the window. The light rain had formed a pale rainbow that stretched over the back of the school toward the gym. Kuroo smiled. "That I am."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A comfortable silence settled over them, and Kuroo let it sit for a minute, just listening to the soft sound of Kenma’s breathing, and the faint noise of his game playing in the background. He could feel that they were falling back into a rhythm at last, things slipping back to how they used to be._
> 
> _"Hey," Kuroo said at last. "So, I feel kind of weird, with how much I don’t know about you."_
> 
> _Kenma made a low, thoughtful noise. "You know most things," he said quietly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to wolves for the excellent beta job :3

At the weekend, Kuroo got up early and went for a run through the neighbourhood. He felt more energised than usual, so he pushed himself a little further than he normally would, heading in the direction of Nekoma and the river that ran nearby. He and Kenma had spent so much time there when they were younger that every bend in the road, every street lamp and tree were all familiar to him. The dilapidated picnic area by the river's edge had been replaced with shiny new benches, and a little jetty to fish from. 

Kuroo's lungs gave out as he neared the gates of the school, and he slowed to a walk to allow himself to catch his breath. Nekoma's soccer team were practising on one of the enclosed tarmac courts, their red and white jerseys so different from his old volleyball uniform, but painfully similar at the same time. The nostalgia threatened to choke him, and Kuroo turned away before he could do something really stupid, like try to get a look at their old gym, or see if the volleyball team were holding morning practice. 

Kuroo took out his phone and was surprised to see how long he'd been out. With a sudden splash of inspiration, he opened his chat history with Kenma and typed, _Guess where I am_

 _The zoo_ , Kenma replied after thirty seconds or so.

Kuroo grinned. _You know I'd never go to the zoo without you_

Kenma didn't reply to that, but Kuroo hadn't really expected him to. Instead, he raised his phone and snapped a photo of Nekoma's front gates, then forwarded it to Kenma.

_You're not going to sneak in are you?_

_Would you speak up for me if I got arrested?_

_No_

Kuroo laughed and tucked the phone back in his pocket. Now that he’d stopped moving, he found that his legs were achy and leaden, and he was starting to get a stitch in his left side. He’d made the foolish mistake of running out in one long, meandering line away from his house, rather than running in a loop; there was no chance he’d be able to run all the way home again without killing himself, but walking would take forever, and he wanted to be home. 

With a groan, he limped over to a bench across the road from Nekoma and sat down heavily. He could call his mother, but knowing his luck, she would already have left to go to the gym. He quickly pulled his phone out and texted her, then sat back to wait. 

Sitting still, the heat from his run soon leached from his body. He tugged down the sleeves of his hoodie and shoved his hands in the pouch to keep them warm.

A little red car drove past, slowing as it passed him. Kuroo watched it, thinking again of their old volleyball uniforms, and wondering if his was still tucked in a box somewhere in his mother's apartment. There were still a few that he hadn't bothered to unpack yet. As he watched, the car stopped suddenly, then the reverse lights lit up and the car backed up several metres and stopped right across from him. 

Kuroo tugged out his phone, but there was no response from his mom. Curious, he got to his feet and took a few steps toward the car. The window rolled down after a moment. 

"Kuroo?"

He took a couple of steps closer and ducked his head to look through the window. "Nita-san?"

"It is you!" Nita said, sounding surprised. "What're you doing here?"

"I was running," he said sheepishly. "Overestimated my own stamina."

She smiled. "I know the feeling, I'm a complete wimp at the gym. Do you need a lift?"

Kuroo shrugged. "That's okay, I'm sure my mom will get my message eventually."

Nita laughed and reached over to open the passenger side door. "Come on," she said, grinning at him. "In you get, I'll drive you home."

"Uhh, are you sure?" he said, wincing slightly. "I'm pretty gross."

"I think I can cope with having a sweaty guy in my car," she laughed, gesturing for him to get in. "Oh, but you might need to put the seat back. Usually my sister sits there, and she...well."

The issue with Nita's sister became apparent the moment Kuroo sat down, and found his knees hugging his ears. "Does she have legs, your sister?"

Nita smiled apologetically. "Really little ones," she said. "Sorry, let me help—"

Nita leaned over, and Kuroo pressed himself as far back as he could against the back of the seat and the car door. There wasn't far for him to go however, and Nita's arm brushed his thigh as she reached down under the seat for the handle. Kuroo made the mistake of glancing down and caught her eye, her head hovering near his hip. They both looked away again, laughing awkwardly. 

"Okay," she said after a moment. "I got it. Push back?"

Kuroo pushed his toes into the footwell and pushed back slowly. The seat skidded back along its runners, finally letting him extend his legs 

"Thanks," he said, grinning at her.

"Oh, don't thank me," Nita said, looking away from him. Glancing at her, Kuroo could tell that she was blushing. "So, where to?"

The journey didn't take very long by car. He and Nita had talked a few times at school, but usually brief, passing each other in a hallway. She was easy to talk to, passionate about her students and the composition classes she taught, and seemed to avoid the gossipy nature of the rest of the faculty. Kuroo liked her.

They pulled up outside his apartment block in no time, and although Kuroo badly wanted to change, or maybe take a really long bath, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty for taking Nita out of her way.

"Hey, do you want to come in for a coffee or something?"

Nita's eyes widened briefly. "Oh, thank you," she said haltingly. "But I have to meet my sister soon, and I'm sure you want to relax after your run."

Kuroo pointed a finger gun at her. "You got me there. Thanks again for the ride, really. See you Monday?"

"See you Monday."

Just as Kuroo turned to head inside, his mom stepped out of the door, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. 

"Mom."

"Tetsu," she said, peering to look over his shoulder at Nita’s car. She smiled and waved, and Kuroo's stomach rolled horribly. "Did you have fun with Nita-san?"

"She just gave me a ride home, because _someone_ didn't text me back," he said, giving her a flat look. 

"You got home, didn't you?"

"No thanks to you."

She patted him gently on the chest. "You had eighteen years of my life, sweetheart. Another ten minutes wouldn't have killed you."

"Wow, maybe you should use those extra ten minutes to go shopping for a new sob story."

"I love you too, Tetsu," she said sweetly, brushing past him. "Don't drown in the bath."

Kuroo huffed. "If I do, will you do my marking for me?"

She laughed. "Nope. Hey, do me a favour and call Kenma today, alright?"

Kuroo turned to frown at her. "Why?"

"You're wallowing. Kenma's good at talking you round."

"If you say so," Kuroo mumbled, looking down at his feet. "Have fun at the gym."

She reached out and caught his shoulder, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Sorry I didn't come and pick you up."

Kuroo forced a laugh. "You're right, I'm being stupid about it. See you later."

"See you later."

Kuroo did feel better once he was clean. He dug out his phone, considering his mother's suggestion that he call Kenma. They hadn't texted since Wednesday,and Kuroo felt a little ashamed for the way he'd broken down on the phone, and for the strange atmosphere that had persisted throughout Kenma's visit. 

Scrolling through, Kuroo realised that it was weeks since he'd really spoken to anyone. He spent a solid fifteen minutes texting, apologising for his absence, and then let his thumb hover over Kenma's contact. 

_Can I call?_

Kenma didn't reply straight away. Kuroo got up to make tea, tapping his fingers against the counter while he waited for the water to boil, one eye on his phone. 

_Are you okay?_

Kuroo sighed, relieved to get a response. _Fine, just felt like talking_

_You can call_  
_I'm just playing a game_

Pleased, Kuroo finished making his tea and carried it through to his room. He had a pile of marking to finish, so he sat down on his bed with the work spread around him, red pen in hand.

_???_

Kuroo grinned at Kenma's impatience and picked up the phone to call.

_"Kuro."_

"Did you think I'd changed my mind?"

_"I was in the middle of something."_

"You can play while we talk if you want, I don't mind."

_"Hmm."_

It was something they used to do a lot while they were studying in different places; Kuroo would talk while Kenma played a game, or sometimes they worked on homework together, only remembering occasionally to talk to one another. 

_"Are you feeling nostalgic today?"_ Kenma asked after a moment. 

"Why do you ask?"

_"Nekoma."_

"Ah. Yeah, I guess." Kuroo laughed self consciously. "It was kind of awkward actually. One of the teachers I work with saw me waiting across the street and offered me a ride home." He paused for a moment, but Kenma apparently had nothing to add. "I think she might...kinda have a crush on me?" Kuroo's ears heated at the admission. 

_"So she has terrible taste."_

Kuroo laughed loudly. "Pretty much. "I guess it can't be helped, I have chemistry with everyone."

_"Do not."_

"It's just part of who I am."

_"A pain in the ass?"_

Kuroo cackled. "I try."

_"You're definitely trying."_

"Yeah." 

A comfortable silence settled over them, and Kuroo let it sit for a minute, just listening to the soft sound of Kenma’s breathing, and the faint noise of his game playing in the background. He could feel that they were falling back into a rhythm at last, things slipping back to how they used to be.

"Hey," Kuroo said at last. "So, I feel kind of weird, with how much I don’t know about you."

Kenma made a low, thoughtful noise. _"You know most things,"_ he said quietly.

Kuroo rolled his eyes. "Maybe, but I missed a pretty big chunk. What's been going on with you? Are you seeing anyone? Been anywhere cool?"

 _"Eh."_ Kenma was quiet for several moments, and Kuroo could tell from the silence that he’d made him uncomfortable. _"You haven't missed much,"_ Kenma said at last. _"I work and play games. Mostly just work. I don’t really have time to date." He sighed. "We took a work trip last year to Venice, that was good."_

"Did you like it?" Kuroo asked. He didn’t mention that he and Akina had been planning to go to Italy for their honeymoon. 

_"I’m glad I saw the city before it sinks."_

Kuroo smiled. "I’d like to go sometime."

_"You should. Doesn’t Yaku speak some Italian? Or Spanish?"_

"Both, I think. He definitely lived in Italy for a while. He was volunteering on a goat farm or something."

 _"How glamorous,"_ Kenma said, sounding amused. _"I volunteered in a cattery for a while."_

" _You_ volunteered for something?"

_"It was Shouyou's idea."_

"Makes sense. So you just got to hang out with a bunch of cats?"

 _"I was mostly on litter box and hairball duty,"_ Kenma said dismissively. Rather than reply right away, Kuroo was quiet, leaving the space for Kenma to fill; after a few moments, he continued. _"Sometimes I got to cuddle them. So they didn't get lonely."_ His voice grew warmer he spoke. _"There was one ragdoll you would have really liked. She always wanted to cuddle."_

"What was her name?"

_"Kaiju."_

Kuroo laughed, and Kenma chuckled softly. "I can't wait for you to meet my cat," Kuroo said, smiling wistfully. "You're gonna love him."

_"Where is he?"_

"With Akina, I'm picking him up next weekend." He groaned. "It means I need to find an apartment asap." 

_"You should probably be working on that anyway,"_ Kenma said dryly. _"Your mom has a life."_

"Tell me about it." Kuroo reached for his tea and took a sip. It was _just_ too hot to drink, and he put it down again with a sigh. "Why is she so much cooler than me?"

_"Coolness skips a generation."_

"That must be why Baron is so awesome."

_"Is that your cat or your son?"_

"Kenma, I’ve got something to tell you."

 _"Ha ha."_ Kenma was quiet for a moment. _"I can ask around for you, see if anyone knows of a room going spare._

"You’re the best."

Kenma huffed at him. _"I’m not."_

"Well I think you are." There was a long pause. "I should go," Kuroo sighed eventually. "I have marking to do."

 _"Good luck,"_ Kenma said quietly. _"Have a good time with Bokuto."_

"I will."

When Friday finally rolled around, Kuroo was itching to get away from work and his mom and spend a couple of days relaxing for a change. Bokuto met him from school, ostensibly to save time, but Kuroo suspected it had as much to do with Bokuto wanting to see Kuroo's mother before they left. 

"Kou-chan!" she yelled when she saw him, and let him sweep her into a hug.

"Mom, your students can hear you."

She took no notice. "Gosh, look at you. Training hard, hm?"

"You know it! And you're as gorgeous as ever."

Kuroo tolerated their nonsense for about three minutes, which was at least two minutes too long, before kissing his mom goodbye quickly and hustling Bokuto into the car. 

It was a little hectic getting out of the city, but Bokuto provided a welcome distraction from Kuroo's thoughts. After an hour on the road, Kuroo already felt lighter than he had in weeks.

"Hey," he said, tossing a packet of sweets at Bokuto, cutting him off mid-song. "We're almost at the toll booth, you got your wallet handy?"

"Mm," Bokuto hummed, reaching into his pocket. "Hey, how much further?" 

"To the toll booth? A few kilometres—"

"No, no," Bokuto said. He wrestled open the bag of sweets and crammed a handful in his mouth. "To the hotel."

"Probably another four hours, I think we'll hit some traffic."

"I can drive if you get tired," Bokuto suggested, sounding hopeful.

"Let's save that for an emergency," Kuroo said, glancing over at him with a sardonic smile. "Unless you got your licence while I wasn't looking."

Bokuto shrugged. "I know how to drive."

"I believe you."

It only took about thirty seconds for the sound of Bokuto enthusiastically chewing gummy sweets to become infuriating. Kuroo glanced over at him, sighing heavily, but Bokuto didn't seem to notice

"So," Kuroo said, as they pulled up to the booth. "Everything's good?"

"What's everything?" Bokuto asked, leaning across the divide.

"What—are you sniffing me?" Kuroo said, laughing. 

Bokuto tried to look innocent. "Got anymore?"

"Check the glovebox." Kuroo sighed and stretched in his seat, while Bokuto immediately made a dive for the compartment. "Mom usually stashes junk in there, to hide it from me."

"Why?" Bokuto asked, already chewing something new. "You don't eat that stuff."

"She thinks I'll shame her."

Bokuto made a sympathetic sound. "You shouldn't kinkshame your parents, dude. Your mom is awesome." His praise was a little spoiled by his mouthful of sour gummies. 

Kuroo groaned. "Do you know what's in those things? Your nutritionist is gonna kill you."

"It's just one weekend!" Bokuto protested. "I'll be in the gym half the time anyway."

"Mm. I think there’s a nature trail nearby, we can go for a run together if you want," Kuroo offered. 

Bokuto sat up, beaming at him. "Dude, yes!"

"But you have to keep pace with me, at least for a little while."

Bokuto pressed his hand against his chest. "I promise!"

When they arrived at the hotel, Kuroo did his best not to think about what it would have been like to come here with Akina. He had chosen it based more on her tastes than his own, wanting to spoil her for their last anniversary before the wedding. 

As they went inside, Kuroo made a mental note to thank Kenma. Bokuto was bouncing along beside him, turning his head every few seconds to stare and exclaim about something new; it was like having a kid along with him, impossible to let his mind linger on thoughts of Akina, or the wedding that wouldn't be taking place next month. 

"Tetsu, check it out!"

"Just a minute, I need to check us in."

Bokuto's excitement continued when they went up to their room. 

"Oh my god, Tetsu," Bokuto yelled, bounding through the door. He went to the window and flung open the curtains. "Look! Look at the bed!"

Kuroo giggled at him and kicked the door closed behind them. "Are you gonna be like this all weekend?"

"Um, is everything gonna be this _awesome_?" Bokuto yelled, crossing the floor and throwing open a door. "Oh my god, Tetsu, the _bath_."

"You can take a bath if you want," Kuroo said calmly.

Bokuto stuck his head out of the bathroom, grinning. "We can take one together, it's huge!"

"Sharing a bed isn't enough for you?"

"Aw, but I missed you," Bokuto said, walking over. He reached out and Kuroo succumbed to an enthusiastic bear hug. Bokuto hugged him tight, sighing happily against Kuroo's shoulder. "This is gonna be so much fun."

"Hey," Kuroo said, finally breaking free. "What do you wanna do first, check out the pool or order room service?"

Bokuto grabbed his shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. "Tetsu. Please marry me."

As Kuroo had feared, Bokuto woke at dawn the next day, and was up and dressed for his morning run before Kuroo had managed to get out of bed. 

"Hey," Bokuto said, his breath heavy while he stretched at the end of their bed. "Tetsu, hey, come on buddy."

Kuroo groaned and dragged one of the pillows over his head. "Kou _why_ ," he moaned. 

"Because you're weird and stringy," Bokuto said, tossing a balled up pair of socks at him. "We gotta beef you up. C'mon, dude, I'm getting antsy."

Kuroo hauled himself out of bed and sloped into the bathroom to hide. He was annoyed to find himself a little stung by Bokuto's comment. Casual insults were part of their language, had been since they'd first met, and he felt stupid for feeling sensitive about it.

After their run, they ate breakfast in their room and watched a movie, then headed down to the spa to enjoy the treatments Kuroo had booked with Akina in mind. When they were shown into a room with two massage beds and left alone to disrobe, Bokuto shot Kuroo a filthy look before dropping his bathrobe a moment later. Kuroo snorted with laughter.

"Cosy," he said, turning his gaze away while Bokuto clambered onto the table.

"Hey, get the towel for me?"

Kuroo rolled his eyes. "Come on…"

"What? You’ve seen my ass a hundred times."

"I know, I know," Kuroo sighed, yanking the towel out from under Bokuto’s shins. "I’ve been blessed."

After the massage—which was a little weird with Bokuto groaning softly only a metre away from him—they sat in the steam room, before Bokuto started to get antsy again, and went to swim laps in the pool. 

Kuroo, meanwhile, found a lounger by the side of the pool and curled up on a pile of towels. His fingers itched for his phone, for something to distract himself from the mess of his head, but instead he forced himself to lie back and close his eyes. He dozed for a few minutes in the warmth and quiet, letting the sounds of the pool and showers, the quiet music and low voices, all fade into the background.

Bokuto called out to him eventually, splashing loudly as he hauled himself out of the water. Kuroo rolled over and lifted his head. 

"You know the pool is for _relaxing_ , right?" he asked as Bokuto walked over, slinging his towel around his shoulders. Kuroo tried not to stare at Bokuto's swimsuit, which was almost non-existent as promised. "Didn't you get enough exercise this morning?"

Bokuto sniffed. "You've always been jealous of my abs. Time to let it go, Tetsu."

"That's not true," Kuroo said, laughing. "Envious, maybe. Not jealous."

"Like there's a difference, bro," Bokuto sighed. He grabbed the bathrobe from the lounger beside Kuroo's and wrapped it around himself, tying it off with a flourish. "Anyway I had all those gummies yesterday, I gotta work off the extra calories."

"Ooh, yeah," Kuroo said thoughtfully. "We're really gonna have to refill the car before I give it back."

"You should probably do that after you drop me off." Bokuto sat down and swung his legs around so that he could relax back on the lounger. "The temptation might be too much for me." 

"Don't worry, you're gonna be much too busy looking after Baron for me"

"I'm starting to think you care more about your cat than our romantic getaway."

"Kou," Kuroo said, sitting up and leaning closer to him. He reached out and stroked Bokuto's jaw with his knuckles. "Sweetheart."

Bokuto fluttered his eyelashes in Kuroo's direction.

They were interrupted by a member of the hotel staff asking if they wanted anything to drink, but she hesitated partway through the question. When Kuroo looked up at her she was blushing faintly, and he couldn’t help wondering if she’d recognised Bokuto. 

"Hey," he said, grinning at her. "Can I see that menu?"

She passed it over quickly, apologising, and Kuroo reached for his reading glasses. 

"We, ah—we do a special romantic dinner package," she said tentatively. "You can order it on room service, it comes with champagne."

Bokuto perked up. "Woah, real champagne?"

"See?" Kuroo said, looking over his glasses at Bokuto. "This is totally romantic."

"Super romance," Bokuto agreed. 

Kuroo glanced back at the list and finally ordered something. 

"Would you like that to share?" the staff member asked, looking from Kuroo to Bokuto.

"Ah, no," Kuroo said with a bewildered smile. "That’s okay, thanks."

"Tetsu," Bokuto whispered, leaning over to him again as the staff member walked away. 

"Mm?"

"Did you tell them we're not a couple?"

Kuroo stared at him. "We're not."

"I know that, dude," Bokuto said, raising his eyebrow. "I meant did you tell them you're not coming here for an anniversary anymore?"

"Fuck, I totally forgot."

For a moment, Bokuto stared back at him. They burst out laughing at the same time, Bokuto throwing his head back with an explosive roar of laughter, while Kuroo curled in on himself, cackling loudly.

In the end, they didn’t order the romantic dinner, but they did order the champagne—or, at least, a more reasonably priced replica. Neither of them had tried it before, and they were feeling both curious and reckless. 

When they finally got into bed, their tipsiness wearing off, Kuroo was dismayed to find that all of the things he'd spent all day pushing aside and papering over with Bokuto's noisy company, rushed to the front of his mind to clamour for his attention. Kuroo pressed his face into the pillow and curled into a tight ball, trying to shut out the rush of thoughts. 

The more he tried to push them away, the more they gnawed at the inside of his skull. Kuroo pressed his knuckles into the corners of his eye sockets, digging into the painful spot behind his eyes. He could hear Bokuto behind him, heavy breaths evening out as he slowly fell asleep. Kuroo tried to focus on Bokuto's breathing, but his mind was racing; he couldn't stop thinking of Akina, and of what she and Kenma had said. How would he know if he loved someone again? How would he know if he even liked them? 

After a few minutes, he gave up and got out of bed. In the bathroom, he splashed some water on his face, and stared at himself in the mirror. He had the sudden urge to smash his fist into the glass, but he didn’t do it. His fingers slowly clenched and unclenched at his side, knuckles brushing the fabric of his boxers. With a heavy sigh, he turned and went back to lie down again with his back to Bokuto. 

"Tetsu?"

Kuroo didn’t move to turn over. He held his breath instead, hoping that Bokuto would give up and go to sleep, but then he felt the mattress shift. Bokuto’s arm brushed against Kuroo’s back, and then his breath was on the back of Kuroo’s neck.

"Tetsu, c’mon, I always know when you’re faking."

Kuroo swallowed. "Nuh uh," he mumbled thickly.

"Ya huh," Bokuto insisted. He snuggled closer, pressing up until they were almost spooning. "You wanna talk about it?"

For a moment, Kuroo forced himself to consider the question. Bokuto was a surprisingly good confidant, if you could keep his attention for long enough, but Kuroo's head felt like a mess of tangles. The weight of his thoughts pressed against the backs of his eyes, swelling until he felt like they would start running out of his ears. 

"I don't—" he began, choking on the words. "I don't know what's wrong, I—everything's just—just—"

"Shh, shh," Bokuto whispered, tugging his arm out from between them and rubbing Kuroo's arm gently. "It's okay, take your time."

Kuroo shook his head, rubbing his face against the soft pillow cover. "I feel—fuckin' useless, Kou," he said, his voice thick. "I hate it, I hate being useless."

"Aw, hey," Bokuto murmured. He nuzzled the back of Kuroo's neck, grip tightening on his arm. "Hey now, you're not useless. You know I won't stand for anyone talking shit about my best friend like that."

In reply, Kuroo just sniffed loudly. 

"Tetsu, hey." 

Bokuto slid his arm under Kuroo's, wrapping it tightly around his waist and tugging him closer. He was warm and comfortable, his thighs hot where they pressed against the backs of Kuroo's legs, slow breaths tickling the hair at his nape. Kuroo moved his hand, trying to ignore the subtle tremor in his own movements, and curled his fingers around Bokuto's. 

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Don't thank me," Bokuto said quietly. "I just don't want you to be sad."

It was such a simple sentiment, sweet and straightforward and so very Bokuto. Kuroo found himself laughing softly, the sound catching at his throat. 

"And what if I'm sad anyway?" he asked. 

"Then I'll just have to keep hugging you," Bokuto said, giving him a breath-stealing squeeze. "That any good?"

Kuroo giggled, and squeezed Bokuto's hand gratefully. "It's a start."

Bokuto hummed a little, and leaned in again to nuzzle Kuroo's hairline, sending a shiver down his spine. "Maybe...you could talk to Suga? He totally wouldn't mind, and—"

"No," Kuroo interrupted, shaking his head quickly. "I mean, I don't want to take advantage just because we're friends. I already talked to him anyway, I don't think that would help."

"If you say so," Bokuto said easily, kindly not mentioning Kuroo's string of excuses. He took a deep breath and sighed out heavily, and Kuroo let himself focus on the sensation of Bokuto's chest and stomach expanding against his back, and the sensation of Bokuto's thumb stroking back and forth over his hand. 

"Sorry," Kuroo murmured. He pressed his forehead against Bokuto's knuckles. "I'm sorry, I'm ruining this whole thing."

Bokuto groaned. "Dude, no, don't say that—hey, Tetsu, look at me?"

Gathering himself, Kuroo shifted forward a little and turned over to face Bokuto. Bokuto's arm still rested on his chest, their fingers tangled together. 

"What do you feel," Bokuto asked, propping himself up on his elbow. "Right now?"

Kuroo opened his mouth to reply, and frowned when he realised that he didn't know. He looked up, but Bokuto didn't say anything, just waited patiently. 

"Tired, I guess," Kuroo mumbled, looking away. "And...useless." He sighed and squeezed Bokuto's hand. "Lonely."

"Yeah," Bokuto murmured after a few moments. "I get lonely too." He unhooked their fingers and reached up to brush Kuroo's hair out of his eyes. "But you've got people around you, dude. People who wanna help, you know?" He paused, his hand lingering by Kuroo's jaw. "You miss Akina?"

Kuroo shrugged. "Not really. Not...specifically. I guess I miss having someone."

Bokuto giggled suddenly, a bubble of slightly-too-loud laughter that made Kuroo look up sharply. "Maybe you just need to get laid."

Kuroo allowed himself to smile crookedly. "Yeah," he said, shrugging. "Maybe."

They caught one another's gazes again, and the moment solidified between them, tension building rapidly. Bokuto's knuckles grazed Kuroo's jaw, and he brushed the pad of his thumb over Kuroo's chin. Kuroo's breath caught sharply. It was the first time he'd felt like things could go another way with Bokuto, that they could cross the line between _just friends_ and _something else_. They held each other's eyes for several long moments, each of them standing on the edge, the decision before them. Jump, or turn back, and let everything stay safe and normal. 

"Kou—" 

Bokuto was biting his bottom lip furiously, his gaze flicking between Kuroo's eyes and his mouth. Kuroo carefully took hold of Bokuto's hand again, cradling it with shaking fingers, and brought Bokuto's knuckles to his lips. 

Bokuto's eyes widened. "Tetsu—"

Kuroo fisted his other hand in Bokuto's t-shirt, and felt Bokuto's fingers tighten around his own in the moments before they both leaned in. 

They kissed slowly, trembling and uncertain. Bokuto pulled back after a few moments, his eyes seeking Kuroo's. 

"Tetsu," he murmured, his expression soft. "I don't want you to feel bad."

"About this?" 

Bokuto gave him a sad smile. "About anything."

Kuroo tilted his head up and caught Bokuto's lips briefly, slipping his hand around to the back of Bokuto's neck. "I don't feel bad about this."

"You sure?"

Kuroo nodded. He tugged gently, and Bokuto leaned down again. 

It was strange, how easy it was. He and Akina had hardly touched for the last six months of their relationship, always blaming it on work, on being too tired, looking forward to the wedding as though it would fix the problem. Kuroo had felt disconnected most of the time, not just from Akina, but from everyone. And then, when he found out that she’d been seeing other people, it had seemed to make sense. 

Bokuto slid his knee over Kuroo’s thighs and nuzzled at his jaw. "You’re overthinking again," he murmured, scratching his fingertips through Kuroo’s hair. 

Kuroo tentatively slipped his hands underneath Bokuto’s t-shirt, pressing against his back. In response, Bokuto pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss against the side of Kuroo’s neck. 

"I can’t help it," Kuroo said, tilting his head back to give Bokuto more room. "Mm, I just think a lot."

"Try not to," Bokuto said softly, the words muffled on Kuroo’s throat. "Just—just for a little while." He slid his hand over Kuroo’s chest, grazing his ribs gently, and came to rest on his stomach. His fingers were just shy of Kuroo’s hip, near enough to a ticklish spot to make him feel the ghost of it.

Kuroo bit his lip. He tried to keep still, willing himself not to flinch or start laughing. To his relief, Bokuto kissed his neck again and his hand moved further down, squeezing Kuroo gently through his underwear before moving away again. His fingers pushed up the hem Kuroo's shirt and trailed lightly over his stomach. This time, Kuroo was unable to stop himself from flinching hard.

"Woah," Bokuto said, laughing softly. "Ticklish?"

Groaning, Kuroo wrestled himself into submission, and dug his fingers into Bokuto's back. Bokuto turned his head to catch Kuroo's eye.

"Tell me if I should stop," he murmured, shuffling lower. He squeezed Kuroo through his boxers again, hand lingering this time while he leaned in and nuzzled Kuroo's jaw. 

Kuroo shook his head. "Don't—don't stop."

Bokuto moved down the bed, his smile vivid in the darkness, and for the first time in a long time, Kuroo let himself go.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"We're still friends, right?"_
> 
> _"What?" Kuroo laughed a little, disbelieving. "Of course we are."_
> 
> _Bokuto looked away briefly, his mouth twisting awkwardly. "Yeah. I guess I mean...are we just friends?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to wolves for the beta 8D

Kuroo woke feeling strangely heavy, and it took him a few moments to realise that one of his arms was being pinned by Bokuto, and that Bokuto's thigh was draped over one of his legs. It wasn't the first time they'd shared a bed, or woken up cuddling, but it was their first _morning after_.

"Kou," Kuroo murmured, trying to free his arm and finding that it had gone to sleep. He put his other hand on Bokuto's shoulder and shook him gently. "Kou, buddy, I need my arm back."

Bokuto snuffled and shifted in his sleep, and Kuroo sighed fondly and gave him another shake. This time, Bokuto opened his eyes slightly and yawned. 

"Tetsu," he mumbled. "Time’sit?"

"Dunno," Kuroo said, and wiggled his trapped arm. "Can I have this back?"

"Mmf."

Seemingly reluctantly, Bokuto rolled over, and Kuroo was able to escape to the bathroom. His arm was still buzzing with pins and needles when he came back to the bed, but Bokuto turned out to be awake, curled on his side with his phone in hand.

"Hey," he murmured, when Kuroo came back and stood beside the bed. He tucked his phone under his pillow and smiled up at Kuroo. "How’s it going?"

Kuroo shrugged. "Fine. You?"

Bokuto's smile wavered slightly. "Pretty good."

After a moment of indecision, Kuroo lifted his knee onto the mattress and sat down. "So, we had sex."

"Yup," Bokuto agreed. "It was good. Right?"

Kuroo felt a shy smile steal across his face. "Yeah," he said, his ears hot. "It was really good."

Bokuto sat up and punched the air excitedly. "Woo!"

Kuroo burst out laughing. "Kou," he said through his laughter. 

"What?" Bokuto grinned at him. "I’m happy!"

"Yeah," Kuroo said, matching his smile. "Me too."

They grinned at each other foolishly for a few seconds, before Kuroo felt the creeping awkwardness of the situation and forced himself to stop smiling. "Um, so—"

"We're still friends, right?"

"What?" Kuroo laughed a little, disbelieving. "Of course we are."

Bokuto looked away briefly, his mouth twisting awkwardly. "Yeah. I guess I mean...are we _just_ friends?"

Kuroo's gut swooped unpleasantly. "Uhh—"

"Because I think we should be," Bokuto said quickly. "Just friends, I mean." He finally looked back at Kuroo and gave him a little crooked smile. "I mean, I think you're awesome, Tetsu. And last night was _great_ , but—"

"Friends first," Kuroo said, and Bokuto nodded, looking relieved. 

"Plus," Bokuto went on, flopping back against his pillow. "You're kinda hung up on someone else, you know?"

Kuroo made a face. "Fuck you."

Bokuto laughed. "Again?"

"Shut up," Kuroo said, shoving him. "Don't think you can use that to win every argument."

"Watch me."

 

 

The rest of the morning was lazy and comfortable. They had reverted to their normal level of intimacy, for which Kuroo was glad. He had worried that they would feel awkward, or try and avoid being too close to one another, but everything was exactly the same as it always was. 

Around lunchtime, they checked out of the hotel and found a place nearby to eat. One of the restaurant patrons recognised Bokuto from his pro team, and Kuroo watched with a fond smile while Bokuto signed an autograph and posed for selfies. He couldn’t help thinking of what Bokuto had said; he didn't think that he was still hung up on Akina, but it was undeniable that she'd been on his mind a lot since their phone call. Kuroo hoped that finally collecting the last of his things would give him some closure. 

It took them about thirty minutes to drive to the apartment Kuroo had shared with Akina. The anxieties that he’d mostly kept at bay over the weekend began to well up as he drove. Even though Akina wouldn’t be there, Kuroo was worried about being surrounded by reminders of her, and their relationship. If Bokuto noticed that he was tense, he didn’t say anything about it, still caught up in the excitement of being recognised by a fan.

At last they arrived. Kuroo’s hands shook as he locked the car. 

"You still got a key?" Bokuto asked as they walked up the three flights of stairs. 

Kuroo shook his head. "The neighbour has a spare."

"Cool, cool."

It took them almost twenty minutes to get their hands on the key. Kuroo's elderly ex-neighbour was, apparently, overjoyed to see him again, and insisted on feeding him and Bokuto cake, and asking him a hundred questions about his job, his mother, his friends. Kuroo had always liked Mrs Honda, but he felt itchy and desperate to get away, especially given that this was probably the last time he would ever see her. 

"Really sorry," he said at last, when they'd made it as far as the door again. "Thank you so much for the cake, but we really need to get back to Tokyo, it's a long drive—"

"Wow," Bokuto said, when she finally closed the door. "You had nice neighbours."

"Eh," Kuroo said, shrugging. He jingled the keys in his coat pocket as they climbed the last flight of stairs. He was eager to see Baron, anxious that he might have forgotten who Kuroo was. His hands trembled again slightly as he unlocked the door, the newly fitted lock unfamiliar. He wasn't surprised that Akina had had it replaced; the old lock had been finicky and difficult. Still, the change made him uncomfortable.

Finally, he pushed open the door and went inside, stepping out of his trainers. The air in the apartment made him pause. He could smell the apple-scented cleaning spray that Akina always bought, the lingering hint of her perfume where she had applied it just before going out of the door.

"Hey," Bokuto said quietly, touching his shoulder. "You okay, Tetsu?"

"Yeah." Kuroo took a deep breath and pushed through the heavy air. "Let’s get this over with."

"I forgot how nice your place was," Bokuto said in a conversational tone while he kicked off his shoes. "Or has Aki-chan done it up?"

"Nah," Kuroo said, shaking his head. "It’s about the same."

"Mm. So she lives here alone now?

Kuroo shrugged. "Baron," he called out, jingling his keys again.

"When's the last time you saw him?" Bokuto asked, clumsily taking off his own shoes. He laughed suddenly. "Maybe he got fat."

Kuroo rolled his eyes. "He did not get fat." He turned his back on Bokuto and walked further into the apartment. "Baron? C'mere, baby, I'm home."

Bokuto snorted with laughter behind him, but Kuroo took no notice. It was the first time he'd been back to the apartment since moving out the majority of his things, and it was odd and alien being back, familiar yet with the firm sense that he didn't belong. It was a lot like the way he'd felt when he moved back in with his mother, the home that he knew so well changed by the years, his long absence obvious from his lack of belongings in the space. 

"Hey, uh, Tetsu?"

"Just a sec," Kuroo said, creeping across the living room. He didn't want to have to check Akina's bedroom for Baron, but it was looking more likely. "He doesn't normally hide, but I guess he hasn't seen me in a while."

Bokuto cleared his throat. "Tetsu, seriously, come read this."

With a groan, Kuroo abandoned his search and went back to the kitchen. A cardboard box sat on the table, and beside it there was a note. Kuroo glanced up at Bokuto, who nodded solemnly, then he picked up the note.

_Tetsurou,_  
_I think this is everything. Baron is in a cattery, I think it's best for him to stay here where it’s familiar. Plus it isn’t fair to your mother for you to bring him home right now._  
_All the best,_  
_Akina_

"What the fuck?"

"Kuroo—"

"No, Kou, what the fuck is this?" Kuroo shouted, waving the note at him. "She—she thinks she can just keep him? He's mine! She didn't even want a cat!"

Kuroo pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and dropped into it heavily, causing it to skid back a few centimetres. "Fuck," he said, looking around him. He wasn't really seeing the kitchen, but remembering one of the last times he'd sat at that table. It was where he'd been sitting when Akina told him that she was leaving him, when she admitted that she'd been seeing other people for months. It seemed somehow fitting that this was where he sat when he found out that she'd screwed him over one last time.

"Tetsu? You okay, man?"

"Fuck, Kou, I—" Kuroo groaned and put his head in his hands. "I can't—what do I do? What the fuck do I do?"

"Okay, take it easy," Bokuto began awkwardly. "Let’s be calm, and—"

"No!" Kuroo shouted, jumping out of his seat. "Don't fucking tell me to be calm!"

Bokuto winced and took a couple of steps back. "Okay, okay—"

"And don't— _fuck_ , I'm not—" Kuroo cut himself off, turning away again with a furious growl. He could feel hot, angry tears burning from his eyes and he scrubbed the back of his hand over his face to wipe them away. "She—she can’t just _steal_ my _cat_."

Bokuto caught hold of his arms and looked him in the eye. "Hey, Tetsu, listen—"

Kuroo shook his head. "What am I gonna do?"

"I don’t know, but first you’re gonna take a deep breath and stop freaking out, okay?"

"Okay." Kuroo did as he was told, drawing in a sharp breath and letting it out slowly. Bokuto held his gaze, breathing with him, his hands firm on Kuroo’s upper arms. 

"Okay," Bokuto said at last, when Kuroo had calmed down. "So, what now?"

Kuroo looked over at the calendar on the wall. "Maybe..." he murmured thoughtfully. On the calendar, Akina had blocked out her business trip. "Akina is really organised," he said, glancing around the kitchen. "Like, _really_ organised. We might be able to find out where he is."

Bokuto stared at him. "And then what?"

Kuroo licked his bottom lip and turned to Bokuto. "Then," he said slowly. "We steal him back."

"Dude, that smile is really creepy."

" _Good_."

 

 

"Is this definitely the place?" Bokuto asked for the third time when they pulled up on the street outside. 

Kuroo cut the engine and sat with his hands on the wheel. "Well," he said, with a nervous glance at Bokuto. "This is the place on the flyer, and the address matches the one on Akina’s calendar."

"I still think it was a little creepy to go through the trash."

"I thought you’d be more excited about staging our very own heist."

Bokuto looked worried. "But—what if they _arrest us_?" 

"Who?" Kuroo said, his laughter just the wrong side of hysterical. "The nice people who look after cats for a living?"

"I dunno," Bokuto muttered, sinking low in his seat and looking around shiftily. "What if they make us?"

Kuroo giggled. " _Make us_? Buddy you watch too many cop shows." 

"Why’re you laughing?"

"I don’t know."

"We’re going to die."

They took a couple of minutes to collect themselves, then Kuroo stepped out of the car and strode toward the entrance of the cattery. He heard Bokuto hurrying after him.

"Are you sure about this?" Bokuto murmured, reaching out to tug on his sleeve. "Dude, hey, are we really just gonna go in and steal him?"

"I'm collecting him, not stealing him," Kuroo hissed, turning to give Bokuto a quelling look. "Now shut up, before we get thrown out."

Bokuto groaned. "I don't like this, Tetsu."

They went inside, and Kuroo pasted a friendly smile on his face, trying to look as if he was meant to be there. A young woman behind the counter looked up from her computer and greeted them politely. 

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Yeah," Kuroo said, forcing the smile a little wider. "I hope so. My girlfriend dropped our cat in for the week, but as it turns out, my plans have been cancelled."

"Oh!" she said, and her smile wavered slightly. "I'm afraid we only offer refunds up to twenty-four hours before occupancy—"

"No no," Kuroo said smoothly, holding up his hands. "That's fine, I just came to collect him. I'm not concerned about the fee."

"Oh," she said again, frowning a little. "So, you weren't the one to bring the animal in?"

Kuroo shook his head, trying not to let the question rattle him. "Nope, that would be my girlfriend, Maruyama Akina." He folded his arms on the counter and gave her another sunny smile. "Did you need my cat's name?" he asked, trying to fight the rising anxiety in his chest.

She smiled at him and glanced over at her computer screen. "Just a moment." 

As she turned away, Kuroo felt another tug on his sleeve. He glanced over his shoulder and found Bokuto looking worried. 

"Don't worry," Kuroo said, trying to signal with his eyebrows for Bokuto to stop looking so suspicious. "We'll get back in time." He turned back to the receptionist with a rueful grin. "He's worried he's gonna miss his train. We're not far from the station here, right?"

"No, not far," she said, looking up to give Bokuto a reassuring smile. "This shouldn't take too long." 

"Yeah, thanks," Bokuto said. 

Kuroo could hear the nerves in Bokuto's voice, and he swallowed a frustrated groan. 

"What's your cat's name, Sir?"

"Baron," he said, turning back to her. "So, can I see him?" 

The receptionist made an awkward face. "Well, I'll have to check."

Kuroo struggled to keep his expression neutral. "Oh?"

"Well, since you weren’t the one who brought him in, we can’t really release him to you without speaking—"

"You should have his vet record, right?" Kuroo said a little desperately. He took a breath, trying to stay calm. This would only work if he stayed calm. "Check the record, it should have my name on it, I’m registered as his owner. He just happens to live with me and my girlfriend."

The assistant looked a little uncertain still, so Kuroo finished up with a smile.

"Alright," she said after a moment. "Hold on for just a moment, let me find it."

She turned away to rifle through a filing cabinet, and Kuroo risked another glance at Bokuto. He was standing by the window, staring out into the street beyond, and cracking his knuckles one by one. 

"Hey," Kuroo called out, forcing a grin. "You wanna wait in the car? It'll just be a few minutes."

"Mm."

"Or you could grab us some drinks," Kuroo said, reaching into his pocket. "We passed a convenience store just around the corner." He glanced back at the receptionist. "Excuse me, sorry—do you know if they sell cake?"

She glanced back at him with a funny smile. "Cake?"

"Yeah, my friend has a sweet tooth."

The receptionist laughed softly, and smiled more appreciatively at Bokuto. "I'm just the same, I can't resist sweets."

Kuroo tugged out his car keys and held them up. "Whadda ya say, Kou?"

Bokuto nodded, finally giving up on the knuckle cracking and holding up his hands to catch the keys. "Okay. You want anything?"

"Surprise me," Kuroo said. He tossed the keys low, underarm, and Bokuto snatched them out of the air easily. When he was gone, Kuroo turned back to the receptionist just as she came up with the file. 

"Here it is," she said, smiling as she turned around with her prize. "Have you had your cat long?"

"Two years," Kuroo said, sighing. "He's still such a kitten. Oh—he's a silver bengal."

"Oh, yes," she said, smiling. "He's a real favourite here, so friendly."

Kuroo nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! He always has to say hi to _everyone_ , and he's such a cuddler." He laughed fondly. "I always wake up to find him sleeping on my pillow, unless he's trying to get me up to feed him." He leaned in, lowering his voice a little conspiratorially. "You know, we had to put locks on all the cupboards, there isn't a single door in the apartment he can't get through, except the front door. Sometimes you'll be taking a bath, and you hear the door open—it's just like a horror movie, I swear."

To Kuroo's relief, the receptionist laughed at his story. She looked up from the file and smiled. "Do you have any photo ID?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," Kuroo said, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out his driver's licence and handed it to her. "Please don't laugh at my hair, okay? It was particularly disastrous that day."

She laughed again and handed back the card. "Alright, thank you. Sorry for the trouble, Kuroo-san. I'll go and fetch Baron for you now."

Kuroo couldn't have stopped the smile that broke out across his face even if he'd wanted to. "That's great! Hey, and don't worry about it. It's best that you guys are thorough, you know?" 

"I'll just be a minute," she said, pulling open a door off the reception. 

As soon as she'd gone, Kuroo took two steps to his left and collapsed into one of the waiting chairs. He felt weak with relief, gone numb from the adrenaline coursing through him. He put away his ID, and pulled out his phone with trembling fingers.

_Guess what?_

To his delight, Kenma texted back immediately. _Did you and Bokuto get into trouble?_

The words brought Kuroo up short. He couldn't help but think of the night before, Bokuto's rough voice in the darkness, and the way his hands had moved over Kuroo's body. He blushed a little, and put his phone away without replying. He could send Kenma a picture of Baron instead. After a couple of minutes, the side door opened again and the receptionist stepped out, holding Baron's carrier in one hand, and a plastic tub of cat food in the other. 

"Here he is," she said, lifting the carrier onto the broad counter. "We're a little sorry to see him go so soon, bring him back soon, won't you?"

"I'll do my best," Kuroo said, bending to peer through the grate on the front of the carrier. "Hey there, charmer," he cooed, poking his fingertips through the holes. "Ready to leave your harem behind?"

"I just need you to sign for him," the receptionist said, holding out a clipboard with a form clipped to it. She gestured with a pen. "Here at the bottom."

Kuroo did his best to keep a straight face as he signed the form, and then as he collected Baron and the receptionist held the door for him. He bid goodbye to her, waving with the hand holding the box of food, and tried not to run back down the street to where Bokuto was waiting.

"Holy shit," Bokuto said, looking up from a bag of fried seaweed snacks. "You actually got him?"

"Get the fucking car open before they change their minds," Kuroo said through a rigid grin. "I'm so terrified I think I'm about to piss myself."

Bokuto hooted with laughter, stuffing his half-eaten snacks in his pocket before wrestling open the car door. 

"In, in," Kuroo said, shoving the box of cat food at him. "I'm gonna put him on your lap, okay? Just hold him steady."

"Yes sir," Bokuto said excitedly, struggling with his seatbelt in his haste. He finally got it fastened, and Kuroo passed the cat carrier to him, carefully setting it down on Bokuto's thighs. 

It wasn't until they had driven away that Kuroo finally allowed himself to take a deep breath. "We did it," he said, a little disbelieving. He looked over at Bokuto, who was staring intently into the cat carrier. As if on cue, Baron let out a low-pitched miaow. 

Bokuto glanced up, catching Kuroo's gaze, and they both burst out laughing. After half a block, Kuroo pulled the car over. He rested his head on the steering wheel, and laughed long and hard. 

 

 

It was late when they arrived back in Tokyo. They had stopped about half an hour away from the cattery, so that Kuroo could situate Baron properly in the back of the car, and also spend ten minutes fussing over him. Baron had miaowed sporadically throughout the journey, but eventually he seemed to have given up complaining and gone to sleep. 

The sun had just set as Kuroo drove through the city. Bokuto had fallen asleep around the same time as Baron, so there was no asking him for directions. Kuroo suspected that Bokuto wouldn't have had a clue how to get to his apartment by car in any case. With a few stops and starts, and copious consultation of his phone, Kuroo finally pulled up just around the corner from Bokuto's apartment building.

Bokuto woke up just as Kuroo killed the engine. "Hey," he said, yawning hugely and stretching in his seat. "Oh, what? We're here already?"

"Surprise," Kuroo said, grinning at him. "Good nap, sleeping beauty?"

"Yeah!" Bokuto said, rolling his head around to look at Kuroo. "You gonna walk me to my door?"

"Obviously," Kuroo said, pulling the keys out of the ignition. "I'm a gentleman, you know."

They both climbed out of the car, and Bokuto collected his bag. It was less than a minute's walk to the building entrance, even though they walked slowly. They didn't speak until they were almost at the door, and Bokuto stopped and turned to face Kuroo.

"So," Kuroo said.

Bokuto grinned at him. "Thanks for bringing me along this weekend," he said, reaching up to grip Kuroo's shoulder. "It's been wild."

Kuroo smiled back at him. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"Don't apologise," Bokuto said, giving him a little shake. He was quiet for a moment, the two of them watching each other silently. "You wanna come in? Have a drink?"

"I should get home," Kuroo said with an apologetic grimace. "I have Baron, and then school tomorrow—"

"Oh, yeah," Bokuto laughed. "Of course, yeah."

Kuroo nodded. He could feel the tension building again, and he desperately didn't want for this moment to become awkward between them. He looked at Bokuto, biting his lip nervously. Bokuto looked back, his eyes wide, watching Kuroo.

They leaned in at the same time, Bokuto moving his hand up to cup the back of Kuroo's neck while Kuroo reached to touch Bokuto's other arm. The kiss didn't linger, but it was warm and comforting, and Kuroo was somehow reassured by the way it didn't make anything turn over in his belly. He just felt safe and happy in that moment, reassured by Bokuto's presence. 

"So," Kuroo said, as they pulled away again. "See you around?"

"Don't leave it too long," Bokuto said, releasing him and giving him a gentle punch in the shoulder. "And hey, bring Kenma around sometime, yeah?"

The mention of Kenma made Kuroo's chest ache, in a way that wasn't completely unpleasant. He realised with a little surge of guilt that he'd never texted Kenma back after collecting Baron, and he briefly considered texting Kenma and asking if he could come by. He dismissed the thought just as quickly, because as much as he knew Kenma would enjoy meeting Baron, there was no point exposing Baron to _another_ unfamiliar place if he didn't have to. And besides, he still didn't even know where Kenma lived.

"I'll do my best," he said solemnly. 

They parted without a backward glance, and Kuroo walked back to his car with an unfamiliar spring in his step.

 

 

When he got home, Kuroo greeted his mother, who was half asleep in front of a movie on the couch, then went straight to the bathroom cabinet to fetch the antihistamines he'd bought for her. 

"Dammit," she said, when she failed to catch his lazy overarm throw. "I'd hoped you were joking about bringing the cat back with you."

"Hey," he said, pressing a hand over his heart. "I would _never_ joke about my cat."

She sat up and watched him bring in his things, wrinkling her nose while he filled the litter tray he'd taken from Akina's apartment. 

"So Akina didn’t mind you bringing him back with you?"

Kuroo's expression darkened. "She's gonna have to be alright with it."

His mom sat up straighter. "Uh oh."

"I'll tell you later," he muttered, turning his attention instead to the cat carrier. 

Baron miaowed at him curiously, and Kuroo quickly unlatched the grate and opened the carrier. "Hey, kid," he murmured, sitting back and holding his hand out a little way from the carrier. "Out you come."

Baron emerged, first his whiskers, and then the rest of him. His ears were twitching from side to side as he stepped out with slow, cautious steps. After a moment, he touched the tip of his nose to Kuroo's knuckle, then nuzzled firmly against his hand. Kuroo made a low, helpless sound, and then scooped Baron up in his arms, hugging him tight to his chest. Immediately, Baron started to purr, squirming in Kuroo's arms to nuzzle up against the underside of his chin. Like some kind of Pavlovian response, Kuroo's eyes filled with tears. 

"I missed you," he mumbled, lowering his head and pushing his face into Baron's fur. "I missed you so much, I missed you, I'm sorry." Baron wriggled harder, clambering up to lay his paws on Kuroo's shoulder, and rubbed himself against the side of Kuroo's neck, purring loudly. 

"Oh, Tetsu."

Kuroo looked up through blurry eyes to find his mother standing over him, smiling gently. 

"Sh—shut up," he gasped, through hiccuping sobs. 

She dropped down to a crouch beside him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Oh, baby," she said softly, reaching up to stroke his hair back from his face. "It's okay, you're home now. You're both home now."

Baron chirruped in response, and Kuroo laughed wetly. "Thanks, Mom," he mumbled. 

His mother chuckled, and pulled her sleeve down over her hand to wipe his wet cheeks. "Come on," she said, and pressed her fingertip to the tip of his nose. "Let him have a look around, I'll make us something to eat."

Reluctantly, Kuroo released his hold and set Baron down on the floor. Baron shook himself a little, then sat down, his paws pressed neatly together, and looked up at Kuroo. 

"I forgot," Kuroo said suddenly, scrambling in his pocket for his phone. He tugged it out and quickly raised it to snap a photo of Baron. As soon as he'd taken it, Baron twitched his tail, then stretched before walking off to explore. Kuroo watched him go, then opened up his conversation with Kenma and sent him the photo. _Say hello to your new best friend._

_You were right_

_Naturally_  
_About what?_

_He's definitely cooler than me_

 

 

A few days later, Kuroo was lying on his bed watching videos on his phone, when Kenma texted him.

_A colleague is subletting her apartment_  
_Want to see?_

Kuroo sat bolt upright, accidentally dislodging Baron from his chest in the process. Baron slid down the sheets with a discontented noise, and Kuroo reached down to scratch his ears in apology. 

_Which district?_  
_Can I bring Baron?_

_I wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise_  
_I'll send you a map_

_Ooh, you're right, I could definitely commute from there_

_She can show us the apartment tomorrow night_

Kuroo grinned.

_I’ll be there!_

"Hey, Mom!" he yelled, scooping up Baron and scrambling up from the bed. "Guess what!"

He met Kenma and Kenma’s colleague near their office the following evening. Miura was short, cheerful, and very, very pregnant, which seemed to be making Kenma nervous. She greeted Kuroo warmly, apologising for making him wait, before leading them both in the direction of the station. 

Kuroo couldn’t help but notice the way Kenma would scoot to the side whenever he ended up in front of Miura, and when they stood on the train he crowded closer and closer to Kuroo to avoid her swaying into him at every turn. By the time they stepped off, he was practically in Kuroo’s armpit. 

"Hey," Kuroo murmured, as they followed Miura out of the station. "You’re being too obvious."

Kenma scowled at him. "Bite me."

It was only a few minutes’ walk from the station to the apartment building, and Miura cheerfully led them up to the fifth floor via the stairs. They were both panting slightly when they reached the top, Kuroo especially. 

"How’re you in such good shape, Miura-san?" Kuroo asked, trying to play down how breathless he was, and doing a bad job of it. Beside him, Kenma’s shoulders were heaving silently. 

"I know," Miura said, laughing. "I’m almost eight months, but I still go to the gym three times a week. My girlfriend thinks I’m crazy, it worries her sick!"

"I don’t blame her," Kuroo said, exchanging a quick glance with Kenma. He was surprised that Kenma hadn’t mentioned Miura was with a woman; Kenma didn’t pay much attention to other people’s relationships, but he wasn’t so oblivious that he wouldn’t have noticed that. 

"So, is it just you, Kuroo-kun?" Miura asked as she unlocked the door to one of the apartments, and ushered them inside. 

"Just me and my cat," he said nervously, hoping that Kenma had already mentioned Baron. He didn’t want to come all this way and put Miura to so much trouble only to be told it wouldn’t work out. "But he’s completely house trained, he doesn’t scratch or anything, he’s really good."

She laughed. "Don’t worry, it’s fine. Cats are covered in the lease." Miura paused. "I think so anyway. I had a dog here for two years and my landlord never said a word."

"Ah, that’s good to know, thank you."

Miura toured him around the apartment, although it wasn’t very big. Kenma waited in the kitchen while they were busy, his nose buried in his phone. When they passed through, Kuroo glanced over Kenma’s shoulder; he was scrolling through a message board, but he must have realised Kuroo was watching, because he reached up and, with perfect precision, flicked him on the ear.

"Bully," Kuroo whispered fondly, before turning his attention back to Miura.

"And that’s pretty much it," she said after a few minutes, herding him back to the hallway. "Like I said, you can keep or toss the furniture as you like, I already moved out what I’m planning to keep." She looked around and then clapped her hands. "Well, any questions for me?"

Kuroo looked at Kenma, who glanced up from his phone with a quizzical expression.

"Well," Kuroo said after a moment. "I think it’s great. Perfect." 

Miura beamed at him. "Fantastic. Ready to sign your life away?"

"Sure," Kuroo said, laughing. "What the hell."

"Great!" Miura set her bag down on the counter and pulled out a wad of paperwork.

"Oh, you literally mean right now?" Kuroo asked, glancing at Kenma. "Don’t you want my credit history or anything?"

"Kenma agreed to undersign the lease for you," she said, smiling brightly. "I know you two are old friends." She winked at Kuroo, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. "And I do his accounts, so there’s no escape."

When they were done with the paperwork, Miura pulled a set of keys out of her bag and slipped it back onto her shoulder. "I’ve left instructions for how everything works, but I do have a touch of the old pregnancy brain," she said, grinning. Next to Kuroo, Kenma shuddered. "So any problems, just email me and me or my girlfriend will fix it. Have fun, kids!"

With a final wave, she slipped on her shoes, and left. 

Kuroo stared at the closed door, then down at the keys in his hand. "That was it?"

"Congratulations," Kenma said dryly. 

Kuroo laughed and spun the keys around on his finger. "Well, shit. I have an apartment."

Kenma stepped away from him to open a cupboard. He peered inside. "You really like it?"

"Don’t you?"

"I do," Kenma said, straightening up and looking around him. "It suits you."

Kuroo grinned at him and leaned across the breakfast island, resting his elbows on the counter. "Will you visit me?"

"Eh." Kenma shrugged. "I’ll visit your cat."

"I’ll take it."

Kenma wrinkled his nose, and Kuroo tried to hide his grin. "Hey, so we should celebrate! Want to get a drink?"

"Sorry," Kenma said, shaking his head. "I would, but I have to go back to the office."

Kuroo felt his face fall. "You’re going back to work? Now?"

"Crunch time," Kenma sighed, shrugging. 

"Then...let me come. I’ll keep you company."

"There’s no need for that."

"I have marking to do, I won’t distract you."

"You just being there is distracting," Kenma argued, but his tone was losing conviction. He sighed again and put his finger and thumb to his temples. "Never mind, I don’t think I’ll get any work done tonight."

"Then let me walk you home," Kuroo said more gently. "You work too hard."

Kenma grunted. "Fine."

Kuroo did his best to contain his glee, because Kenma was making the face he always made when he was getting a headache, and Kuroo didn't want him to change his mind. But Kenma was clearly still hypersensitive to Kuroo’s emotions judging by the elbow he jammed in Kuroo’s stomach. 

"So how long is this walk?" Kuroo asked once they stepped outside again. "You still haven’t told me where you live."

"Oh," Kenma said, looking faintly surprised. "It’s not far. About twenty minutes on foot."

"So close!" Kuroo nudged him with his elbow. "I knew it, you want me near you."

"Ugh, Kuroo—"

"I’m so touched," Kuroo said, grabbing Kenma’s arm and using Kenma’s sleeve to dab at his eyes. "You _do_ care about me."

Kenma snatched his hand back. "Don’t be stupid."

"You do," Kuroo sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "No takebacksies."

"I can’t take back what I didn’t say."

They walked a little way in a comfortable silence, and Kuroo noticed that Kenma was beginning to drag his feet, his pace becoming slower and slower. Kuroo slowed to fall in step with him. 

"Hey there."

"Don’t."

"Did you even sleep last night?"

"What is sleep," Kenma intoned, but weariness was creeping around the edges of his voice. 

"I can’t believe you were gonna go back to work," Kuroo said, shaking his head. "Nighttime is for sleeping."

Kenma shrugged. "There’s a sleeping bag under my desk."

"Is that a joke?" Kuroo ducked to peer at Kenma’s face. "Please tell me that’s a joke."

"Ugh." Kenma put a hand over Kuroo’s face and pushed him away. 

"Do you want me to drag you? I can drag you."

Kenma wrinkled his nose. "Don’t drag me."

"I’ll do it," Kuroo said, starting to smile. "All you need to do is give me directions."

"Kuro—"

Without stopping to reconsider, Kuroo grabbed hold of Kenma’s hand. It was small and cold in his own. He expected Kenma to pull away, but he was either too tired to fight, or wasn’t as annoyed about it as he was pretending to be, because he just curled his fingers loosely around Kuroo’s hand and let himself be dragged. 

They walked for about half a block, Kuroo pulling Kenma along behind him like he was wheeling a suitcase along the street. At the corner they stopped, waiting for the opportunity to cross. 

Kenma fell in beside him, and leaned against Kuroo’s arm. "We turn left next," he said quietly. Kuroo squeezed his hand. 

It wasn’t until they stopped outside Kenma’s building that Kuroo realised they were still holding hands, but he hadn’t had to drag Kenma since they stopped at the crossing.

"This is mine," Kenma said, letting go of his hand. 

Kuroo turned to face him. "You need me to carry you upstairs?"

"There’s an elevator."

"Kenma," Kuroo said, pretending to pout. "You never let me mother you anymore."

Kenma reached out and punched him in the chest. Or, he tried. It was more of a firm pat. 

"Ow?" Kuroo said, frowning. "Did I do something?"

Kenma gave a fierce shake of his head. He grabbed hold of the front of Kuroo’s jacket and tugged on it. 

Kuroo started to laugh uncertainly. "Are we playing charades? I know you're tired, but maybe some words."

Frowning, Kenma took a step forward, and faceplanted in Kuroo's chest. "Oh," Kuroo said softly, and carefully brought his arms around Kenma's shoulders. "This okay?"

Kenma nodded. 

Unable to help himself, Kuroo started to grin. He wrapped his arms around Kenma a little tighter, and felt a little flutter in his chest when Kenma's hands came up to fist in his jacket. 

Kuroo rested his cheek against Kenma's head and breathed out slowly. "Thank you, for helping me with the apartment."

Kenma gave a quiet grunt, which could've been an acknowledgment, or a complaint about Kuroo leaning on him. Kuroo chose to take it as the former. They pulled back after a minute or so, Kenma avoiding his eye. 

"Let me know when you move your stuff," he said, reaching for his bag. 

Kuroo shoved his hands in his pockets so that he wouldn't be tempted to reach for Kenma again. "Are you offering to help?"

The look Kenma gave him made the answer very clear. 

"I'll let you know," Kuroo promised. "Get some rest, okay?"

"I will. Thanks for walking me home."

"Anytime."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Bokuto's having a party tonight but I think it'll just be a few people. Wanna go with me?"_
> 
> _"Not really."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eee thanks for sticking with me this long my guys (´｡• ω •｡`) ♡

Although Kuroo was excited to have his own place, he wasn't thrilled about the actual process of moving. As luck would have it, Bokuto texted him on Friday afternoon, inviting him to come over that evening.

_Sure, what're we doing?_

_PAARTY!!!_  
_but not realy jus t a few peeps_  
_u me akasgi,, suga mayb, akinorri...yukietan swarmara + yui-tan_

Kuroo winced a little at the list, feeling a familiar twinge of anxiety in his gut, but he forced himself to read through again. Even if everyone showed up, that was only eight people, all of whom he knew and liked. If more people came, he could probably deal with it. 

_Is that all_

_Idk it's short notise to ask folks_  
_oh your being sarcastic_

_:3c_

_c u tonite xxx_  
_hey invite ur mom_  
_tettsun_

 

 

Kuroo spent all afternoon agonising over whether he should invite Kenma to the party, until he finally got home from work and it was almost too late to ask. Still, Bokuto had specifically told him to bring Kenma round when he could, and there was no harm in asking. 

_Bokuto's having a party tonight but I think it'll just be a few people_  
_Wanna go with me?_

_Not really_

Kuroo waited a few minutes after Kenma's reply, until it became obvious that he wasn't going to get any clarification. 

_You know, a smaller man would be hurt by that cavalier refusal_

_Good thing there's so much of you_  
_I don't really feel like a party_

_That's okay, me neither_  
_We can just get drunk and make fun of people_  
_It'll be like uni all over again_

He waited several minutes again with no reply from Kenma. Forcing himself to step away from his phone, Kuroo went to take a shower and change for the party. 

Baron followed him into the bathroom, and sat on the edge of the sink to watch while Kuroo scrubbed himself on the shower stool. 

"What do you think, buddy?" Kuroo murmured, reaching out to scritch Baron's cheek with wet fingers. "You reckon Kenma will say yes?"

Baron shook himself, and reached up to start washing his face where Kuroo had touched him. 

"Right," Kuroo muttered, snorting softly. 

There was still no reply from Kenma when Kuroo was dry, so he tossed his phone onto his bed and started rooting through his clothes for something to wear. His favourite pair of jeans had almost worn through at the seams; he was tempted to wear them anyway, but Bokuto was exactly the kind of person who would notice—and then point it out to every other guest—if Kuroo's jeans had a hole in the crotch. Instead, Kuroo pulled out another pair that he hadn't worn as often. They were a little too big, which made him frown as he dug around for his belt. He'd been trying to remember to eat better since moving back home, but he still found himself missing meals at least once a day.

While he was fastening his belt, Baron sauntered into his room and hopped into the suitcase that held most of Kuroo's casual clothes. He'd hung up his work clothes to keep them neat, but there hadn't seemed much point in unpacking the rest, especially not now that he had somewhere new to take them. 

"Hey, which one?" he asked Baron, holding up two t-shirts. Baron chirruped at him, before turning in a circle and settling down on one of Kuroo's hoodies. Rolling his eyes, Kuroo reached for his phone and took a photo of the two shirts to send to Bokuto.

_Which one? Baron is no help at all_

_if ur shirts are on the bed does taht mean ur topless?_

_Masterful deduction_

_pics? ;) ;) ;)_

_Focus, dude_

Kuroo turned to the mirror, snapping a quick photo of himself without his shirt on. He was about to hit send when he hesitated, looking down at the picture with a frown. Maybe it was because he wasn't sleeping enough, but he looked pale and washed out, and his collarbone stood out starkly. Feeling self-conscious, Kuroo quickly deleted the photo. Bokuto had already texted back anyway.

_the red one i geuss?_  
_idk dude u look great in everythin_

Kuroo felt like the words should have made him feel better, but they only made him feel hollow. 

_Red it is, thanks_

Kuroo finished dressing quickly and went into the kitchen, where his mother was making curry. 

"Smells good."

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "You look nice."

"No need to sound so surprised." 

She shrugged. "Normally you have that...dragged-through-a-hedge-backwards look."

"Wow, Mom, thanks." 

"Are you eating before you go?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

"Good, it's almost ready."

They talked about school while they ate; they shared many of the same students, and Kuroo was gradually learning everyone's names. He had always been good at putting names to faces, but lately it seemed harder, and he'd taken to watching videos about mnemonics and memory palaces, trying to find ways to make the names stick. 

"So I talked to Nita-san yesterday," his mother said after a little while, looking up at him with a sly expression. 

Kuroo groaned. "Oh god, what did you say?"

She laughed. "Nothing! We were talking about one of the third year students, and you happened to come up in the conversation. She has quite the crush on you, doesn't she?"

"I'm trying not to think about it," he muttered, looking down at his bowl. 

She reached out and patted his arm. "It's for the best. Office romances are a minefield."

"I'm sure she's really nice."

"She's lovely."

Kuroo nodded while he slowly chewed his mouthful. "I'm not—I don't know if I'm up for dating anyone right now."

"How about just sex?" she teased, grinning at him. 

Kuroo raised his eyebrow at her. "What makes you think I'm not having sex?"

For a few seconds, he could tell that he had surprised her, and felt a savage pleasure at the knowledge that he wasn't quite as predictable as all his friends seemed to think he was. But the feeling quickly faded into annoyance, compounded when her surprise turned into a wicked grin, and she punched him lightly in the shoulder.

"I knew it," she said, looking pleased. "You hooked up with Kou-chan, didn't you?"

"Ugh, Mom, can we not?" Kuroo said, already filling with regret. 

"You brought it up," she said, shrugging. "But fine, whatever makes you happy."

"It was just a friends with benefits thing."

She smirked, but didn't look over from her meal. "Well, whatever it was, I think it did you good."

"Yeah, thanks."

"And the sooner you move out, the sooner you can get laid without me having to hear it."

Kuroo winced. "Yeah."

She winked at him. "Any chance of that happening tonight?"

"Me moving out?"

"The other thing."

Kuroo shrugged. "Doubt it. Me and Bokuto agreed we're better as friends. Without the benefits."

"And he's the only single person in Tokyo."

" _Mom_."

 

 

The party wasn't as bad as Kuroo had feared. Bokuto's guest list was, for once, fairly accurate. Akaashi was running late, and Suga had brought a friend—or a date, Kuroo wasn't sure—but otherwise the atmosphere was laid-back and intimate. 

After greeting everyone, Kuroo started out chatting with Daichi and Yui, making small talk about work and mutual friends. When he spotted Suga edging in his direction, however, Kuroo excused himself and escaped to the kitchen to grab another drink. 

Checking his phone, he found that Kenma still hadn't responded to his message, so Kuroo tucked his phone back into his pocket, strangely bereft. He had an odd inkling that he'd upset or annoyed Kenma, but he wasn't sure how. He missed the feeling of knowing what Kenma was thinking, or how to make things better between them.

"Yo." A heavy hand settled on his shoulder and he startled slightly before turning to find Bokuto grinning at him. 

"Hey, man," Kuroo sighed, pulling on a tired smile. "Akaashi get here yet?"

Bokuto shook his head, sliding his hand down to Kuroo's back to steer him back into the other room. "He's doing a booze run, Yukie went to meet him."

"Already?" Kuroo asked, laughing weakly. At Bokuto's direction, he sat down on the couch, folding one of his legs underneath him.

"How's Kenma doing?" Bokuto asked, taking a seat across from him.

Kuroo shrugged. "Okay. We hung out a little the other night." It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Bokuto about the new apartment, but for some reason he held himself back. Perhaps because he knew that Bokuto would offer to help without a second thought, and Kuroo had already asked enough of him recently.

He looked up to find Bokuto watching him expectantly. Kuroo took a sip of his drink and shifted in his seat, avoiding Bokuto's gaze. "What?" 

"What, that's it? Come on, Tetsu, I'm curious about him. We all wanna know how he's doing."

Kuroo shrugged. "He's good, I think. He seems to like his job. I had to stop him going back there on Wednesday night."

"Kenma's a workaholic?" Bokuto asked with a snort. "I can't picture it."

"I know." Kuroo grinned at the thought, but he lingered on the memory of Kenma's weary expression, the way he'd dragged his feet and clung to Kuroo's hand. "We kind of...held hands?"

“What!" Bokuto stared at him, lowering his hand where he'd been raising his bottle to his lips. "Dude, that's huge!"

“Why? No it isn't. Friends hold hands.”

Bokuto gestured between himself and Kuroo. “We don't hold hands.”

“We had sex," Kuroo said in a hushed voice, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening.

"Not _romantically_.”

Kuroo made a face. "I wasn't holding Kenma's hand romantically. He was tired, so I walked him home."

"I dunno, man," Bokuto said with a strange smile. "You seem pretty defensive about it."

"No, I—"

"Hey hey!" Bokuto yelled suddenly, looking over Kuroo's shoulder. "Akaashi's here!" He clapped Kuroo's shoulder as he got to his feet. "Let's talk later, Tettsun, yeah?"

"Yeah," Kuroo muttered, Bokuto already halfway across the room. He took a sip of his beer and sighed heavily, before turning to wave at Akaashi. When he turned around again, Suga was just sitting down in the spot Bokuto had vacated. 

"Kuroo," Suga said, with a shark-like smile. 

"Oh, hey, Suga," Kuroo said, forcing himself to smile in response. "How's it going?"

"Good. Busy." Suga leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. "How're things with you, Kuroo?"

Kuroo felt the overwhelming urge to smile, even though nothing was funny, and he hid behind his beer bottle for a few seconds while he scrambled for a response. "Fine, I guess," he said, shrugging. "Work is good."

"Have you seen much of Kenma?" 

"Oh," Kuroo said, eyes widening slightly. "Yeah, kinda. I invited him to come tonight actually, but he—had plans."

Suga grinned and rolled his eyes. "Bokuto does love a last-minute event." 

"Yeah," Kuroo agreed with a grateful laugh. 

"So, have you been up to much lately?"

"Oh, uhh—"

"Only I noticed all my messages have gone conspicuously unanswered," Suga continued, displaying his shark-like smile once more.

Kuroo winced. "I'm sorry," he said, hanging his head. "I've been really bad at replying to people lately. I'm trying to do better."

To his surprise, Suga reached out and clasped a firm hand around his knee. "I know I can't force you to get help, but your friends are here for you," he said quietly. "Let us help."

"I appreciate it," Kuroo muttered, looking away. "But I'm really okay."

Suga shrugged. "Alright then." 

It seemed like he wanted to say more, but Kuroo was saved by the sudden vibration of his phone in his pocket. He excused himself, expecting a reply from Kenma, but was confused when he saw that it was an incoming call. The number was blocked, and Kuroo hesitated for a few moments, before ducking into Bokuto's bedroom and answering the call. 

"Hell—"

 _"Tetsurou,"_ the person on the other end shrieked. _"You fucking piece of shit."_

Kuroo's stomach plummeted. "Ah—Akina—"

_"What the fuck gives you the right to just—just take him?"_

"He's my cat," Kuroo snapped, wincing at his own tone. He closed his eyes, tried to keep calm. "You knew he was mine and you tried to stop me from taking him back. He's not a hostage, he's my friend."

 _"Your friend,"_ she said sarcastically. _"It wouldn't surprise me if he's the only friend you've got at this stage. I hope you're very happy together. Goodbye, Tetsurou."_

"Akina—"

She hung up before he could say anything else. Kuroo stared at his phone for a moment. The background was a photo of him and Bokuto from months earlier; Kuroo went into his camera roll and replaced it with a recent picture of Baron. His hands were unsteady, so he sat down on the edge of the bed instead of going back out to the party right away. 

He could hear his friends on the other side of the door; Bokuto and Konoha were laughing at something, and he could make out Akaashi's voice in response. About to put his phone away, Kuroo held it out again and opened his chat with Kenma.

_Sorry if I said something wrong_  
_Want to do something this weekend, just the two of us?_

He put his phone away again with a sigh, and flopped back onto the bed. Bokuto's room was dark and comforting, and the bed smelled of him, reminding Kuroo of training camp and sleepovers, of the weeks Bokuto had put up with him and looked after him following his breakup. It was surprisingly easy not to think about last weekend. It had been fun, but Kuroo had meant what he said to his mother about not repeating it. He didn't feel any particular stirrings of desire, remembering it now. It was a relief. Enough things had changed lately.

Kuroo sat up eventually, but even with most of his friends in the other room, he found that he didn't want to see any of them. He craved Kenma's company instead, the quietness and the surety of being understood. 

As he sat there, contemplating, Suga poked his head round the door, and when he saw that Kuroo was finished talking, stepped inside and pushed it closed behind him. "Hey, everything okay?"

"Fine," Kuroo said, dredging up another smile. He wasn't sure where they kept coming from, but they all sat on his face a little wrong. 

Suga sat beside him on the bed. "Actually fine? Or is it more like…'help me Suga I feel like I'm drowning but I don't know how to explain it so I just say I'm fine'?" 

Kuroo took a shuddering breath. "I guess," he said tentatively, "the second."

"Mm." Suga leaned in, just a little, and pressed his arm against Kuroo's. Kuroo hesitated for a moment before pressing back.

They sat together for a minute or two in silence, listening to the muffled sounds of the party. 

"Did something happen?" Suga asked at last, his voice gentle. 

"Nah," Kuroo said, thinking of his brief conversation with Akina with a painful twinge. "My ex. She just yelled at me, but uh. I probably deserved it."

Suga glanced at him. "Oh?"

"I kind of...stole our cat," he said, and found himself smirking at the thought. "I mean, he's my cat really? I got him a little while before we moved in together, but I guess he kind of became ours." 

"Do you feel bad?"

Kuroo shrugged. "Not really. A little. I kind of feel worse about it now, even though she yelled at me."

Suga snorted. "Fuck feelings."

"Yeah," Kuroo agreed, with the first real smile he'd managed all evening. "Fuck 'em."

Again, Suga was quiet for half a minute or so, contemplating. "Do you find you get a lot of ups and downs?" he asked eventually.

Kuroo groaned. "I don't know if I wanna talk about this."

"I know," Suga said, nudging him firmly with his arm. "But just listen to me on this, okay? You're in the middle of this, it's hard to see clearly. I see it all the time, you know? I see the before—that's you. And I see the after."

Kuroo didn't want to ask, but curiosity got the better of him. "The after?" 

Suga shrugged. "Medication, counselling. If you broke your wrist, you wouldn't just wait for it to get better on its own, would you?"

"I might," Kuroo muttered, feeling petulant.

"How're things with Kenma?" Suga asked after another pause.

"Same as ever." Kuroo shrugged. "He actually—he helped me find an apartment, I'm gonna move some stuff tomorrow."

Kuroo hadn't intended anything of the sort, but now that he said it, he felt that he'd committed himself. Still, moving something would be good, if only because he couldn't take any more of his mother's significant looks across the table while they ate. They had both always been very protective of their own space, and it was no small wonder that the past few months had gone so smoothly, not counting the odd territorial hiccup. 

"That's great," Suga said warmly. "Change can be really helpful."

A loud cheer erupted right outside the door, and Kuroo groaned. "I love them, but I'm so not in the mood for this today."

"Koutarou-kun will understand if you need to leave."

Kuroo sighed. "Yeah, I know."

Suga leaned over and bumped Kuroo's shoulder with his forehead. "It'll be alright, I promise."

Kuroo thought of his phone in his pocket, his message to Kenma still unanswered, and frowned. "Yeah."

 

 

Kenma didn't text him back all of the following day. Kuroo and his mom loaded as much of his stuff as they could fit into her car, and they drove to his new apartment. 

"This feels just like when you moved into the city for university," his mother sighed, giving him a watery look. "You think a lot has changed in ten years?"

"In Tokyo?"

She shrugged. "Or in you."

Kuroo frowned out at the traffic. "I guess. If you asked me ten years ago where I'd be now, I wouldn't have said this." He sighed. "At least Aki-chan cheated on me _before_ we got married. Otherwise I'd just be a pathetic divorcee."

"Mm. Well that's one way of looking at it."

"Yeah, well." Kuroo shuffled in his seat and ran his fingers through his hair. "Hey, Mom? Does everybody's life turn into a fucking mess, or is it just me?"

She smiled. "Pretty much everyone."

"Huh. I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse."

"Tetsu," she sighed, fond and weary. "It's very rare that someone's life goes to plan. Honestly, I'm not sure that ever really happens. But just because things go a little differently to how you expected them to, that doesn't mean you're a mess."

He glanced at her. "So, you never wished you hadn't gotten pregnant when you did?"

It took her a few moments to answer, which was more than enough time for Kuroo to worry that he'd been a mistake after all.

"Of course I wonder what life would have been like if I hadn't had you," she said eventually, her words slow and thoughtful. "But at the end of the day, I do have you. I love you more than anything, and just because things might have been easier if I hadn't gotten pregnant so young, doesn't mean they would have been better."

Kuroo bit his cheek, and turned to look out of the window. "Gross, Mom."

She sighed at him. "Tetsurou—"

"I get it," he said, grinning at her despite the burning in his eyes. "I love you too."

 

 

Kenma finally texted him on Sunday morning. Kuroo had spent a restless night on the unfamiliar futon in Miura's apartment, and was scrolling aimlessly through a tech news website while Baron purred like a jet engine on his lap. 

_Sorry, I had to work yesterday_  
_Did you have fun at the party?_

Kuroo didn't answer right away. Some petulant, selfish little part of him was still hurt that Kenma had snubbed him on Friday night, so he put on a series he'd been meaning to watch and snuggled up on the couch with Baron to watch it. 

About an hour later, the apartment buzzer sounded, making him jump. Baron leapt off him with a disgruntled sound, kicking Kuroo in the stomach as he departed. Wincing, Kuroo rubbed the spot as he got to his feet. He was only wearing a pair of sweatpants and his glasses, so he pulled his jacket off the back of a chair and tugged it on before going to the door. 

Kenma was waiting on the other side. Kuroo stared at him.

After a few seconds Kenma looked away, shuffling on the spot. "Are you going somewhere?" he asked.

Kuroo blinked and reached up to subtly tug his jacket closed over his chest. "Uh. No." He cleared his throat and took half a step back. "Want to come in?"

"Thanks," Kenma muttered, brushing past him and stepping out of his shoes. He was holding a paper bag, which he set down on the kitchen counter before dropping to his knees. 

Kuroo was momentarily confused, until he saw Kenma stretching out his hand to greet Baron, and smiled. "That's Baron," he said, wrapping his arms around himself. "He'll let you pick him up."

Kenma was quiet for a moment, crouched and watchful while Baron butted against his fingers. He ruffled Baron's ears with his fingertips, then ran the palm of his hand along Baron's spine, stroking him from his ears to the tip of his tail. Baron arched against his hand, then raised his head and chirped, asking for more. Kenma reached out and scooped him into his arms, standing up carefully with Baron cradled against his chest. 

"He likes you," Kuroo said, watching Baron rub his head against Kenma's chin. 

"You said he'd let anyone pick him up."

Kuroo smirked. "No, I said he'd let _you_ pick him up."

In truth, Baron probably would have let almost anyone hold him, but Kenma didn't need to know that. 

"I'll make some tea," Kuroo said, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it back over the chair. "How'd you know I'd be here?" he asked as he sidestepped Kenma and Baron to get to the kitchen. 

"I didn't," Kenma said, sounding distracted. "I was just going to leave you something, but I figured I'd knock just in case."

Kuroo set some water boiling, and swore under his breath when he realised he didn't have any cups. "Ah—slight hiccup," he said, leaning over to talk to Kenma with a rueful smile. "How do you feel about going out for coffee?"

"Depends," Kenma murmured, distracted by the way Baron was clambering up his shoulder to nuzzle his left ear. "Are you going out like that?"

"Kenma," Kuroo said, putting a hand to his chest and feigning surprise. "Are you suggesting my state of dress is inappropriate?"

Kenma snorted, but didn't deign to answer. 

"Alright," Kuroo said, stalking past him. He paused at Kenma's side and leaned in to give Baron a noisy kiss. After a moment's consideration, he kissed Kenma too, on the top of his head, then crossed to his bedroom. "Give me five minutes!"

"You've got three," Kenma said without much venom. 

Ten minutes later they left Kuroo's apartment, Kuroo hiding a smile at how difficult it was to drag Kenma away from Baron. There was a cafe a few streets away that he and his mother had eaten in the day before, and he spent their walk extolling its virtues to Kenma. 

"You know," he said, when Kenma seemed unenthused about the extensive dessert menu, "we can go back to my place and play with Baron after we get coffee."

"If you want," Kenma said, shrugging, but Kuroo noticed him smiling as they continued their walk. 

Kenma seemed to perk up again when they reached the cafe, gazing over the menu with a hungry look in his eyes. They ordered drinks, and Kenma chose something extravagant-sounding from the desserts list. 

"Hey," Kuroo said when they'd placed their orders. "Sorry again about Friday. You didn't miss a lot actually, I ended up leaving early. Everyone says hi though."

"Hi," Kenma muttered, turning to look out of the window. 

Kuroo sat back in his chair and let out a slow breath. He didn't want to seem impatient or annoyed with Kenma, but it was difficult when Kenma was so obviously holding him at arm's length. Just as he was about to change the subject, Kenma cleared his throat. 

"I'm sorry for avoiding you," he said in a low voice. "That's why I came over, to apologise."

Kuroo frowned. "Okay?"

Kenma let out a little sigh. "I'm not—I just, don't really do that anymore. The drinking and the parties." He glanced up at Kuroo, looking awkward and strangely defiant at the same time. "And I really did have to work."

"It's fine," Kuroo said with a shrug. "Next time though, just tell me that."

"Yeah, I—I know, I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Kenma gave him a doubtful look, and Kuroo grinned. "Seriously, it's fine. Buy my coffee, we'll call it even."

Kenma nodded. "Can I...still come and see Baron later?"

Kuroo clicked a finger gun at him. "You bet."

"You're embarrassing."

 

 

They spent the afternoon watching TV on the couch in Kuroo's living room, alternately leaning on each other, or kicking the other away when they got restless. Baron climbed on top of Kenma almost as soon as they got settled, crawling halfway inside his unzipped hoodie and falling asleep. It wasn't long before Kenma followed. 

Kuroo found himself watching Kenma more than he was watching his laptop, but tempted as he was to wake Kenma up to talk to him, there were dark circles under Kenma's eyes, and it was obvious that he was exhausted. Kuroo got his revenge instead by taking enough photos to provide blackmail material for months. 

When Kenma eventually woke, grumbling at Kuroo for letting him sleep for so long, he dislodged Baron and got off the couch to stretch. Kuroo tore his eyes away from Kenma's t-shirt riding up and drew up a local takeout service on his computer. 

"Hungry?"

"Mm." Kenma bent over and touched his toes, then reached out to tickle Baron's ears. "Yeah, I could eat. Tell me if you want me to go though."

"I never want you to go," Kuroo said, frowning at him. "Why would you think that?"

Kenma shrugged. He still had his back to Kuroo, but his shoulders had plenty to say. "I'd kick _you_ out if I'd had enough of people."

Kuroo thought back, trying to recall if he could remember Kenma ever doing that before. Kenma had never had any trouble letting Kuroo know when he needed space, or that he didn't want to do something, but there weren't many occasions when he'd actually kicked him out. 

"Stay as long as you like," he said, meaning it, even if Kenma snorted and shook his head. 

They ordered food, and watched more TV. Kuroo still had worksheets and class tests to mark, but he figured it could wait until Kenma left. Mondays were light, and at a stretch he could leave most of his marking until the following night. 

After they had eaten, Kenma mumbled something about leaving soon, but ten minutes later he had fallen asleep again, draped over Kuroo's lap. 

Kuroo panicked for a solid minute, unable to decide whether he should wake Kenma, or let him rest. He touched Kenma's shoulder, and had to suppress a little sound of delight when Kenma headbutted his wrist, begging like a cat to have his head petted. Feeling strangely shy, Kuroo tentatively reached up and ran his fingers through Kenma's hair. His fringe needed cutting, hanging almost in his eyes, and Kuroo brushed it back gently, running his fingertips around the delicate curves of Kenma's ear. 

"Mm," Kenma hummed, not quite asleep. "Should go."

"Yeah, it's getting late."

Kenma didn't move. 

"How about I wake you in half an hour and walk you home?"

"Mm." Kenma turned and pressed his face against Kuroo's thigh. "Kay."

"Okay," Kuroo echoed. He stroked his hand over Kenma's head again, and down his back. He was warm, and Kuroo could feel the heat of Kenma's face through his jeans. Kuroo felt at once comforted, and more lonely with Kenma snuggled up to him. He was already dreading Kenma leaving, and he couldn't help but wonder when they'd get to do this again. If Kenma would even want to. "Hey, Kenma," he murmured.

Kenma made a soft noise, which might have meant he was listening, or already asleep.

"I missed you," Kuroo whispered, running his fingers through Kenma's hair again. "Let's not do that again, okay? You're still my best friend."

Kenma didn't reply, but his fingers tightened where they were loosely grasping the hem of Kuroo's t-shirt. 

Kuroo smiled. "Yeah, I'll hold you to that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to leave a comment or reblog/RT the fic if you're enjoying it! ヽ(*⌒▽⌒*)ﾉ


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Kuroo pulled out a chair and sat down at one of the empty desks at the rear of the classroom, close to the window. It had rained for most of the day, but the downpour had finally stopped during the last class, and the sun was starting to break through the overhanging clouds. He propped his chin on his hand and stared out at the scenery, watching the wind move the trees that lined the street outside._
> 
> _Kuroo rarely thought of his own school days while he was teaching, but something about this view reminded him of his final year at Nekoma. He remembered one day, just before they went to Nationals, when Kenma had walked in on another third year girl confessing to him. Kuroo had never gotten many confessions, but as the captain who was leading his team to Nationals, there had been a small influx of requests. Kuroo wondered if Kenma would remember the incident; Kuroo had been embarrassed, but Kenma had just rolled his eyes and taken out his phone to wait for them to be done._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well....it's been a while. I actually wrote this chapter months ago but I've been sitting on it while I try to work out where the next few chapters go, which took longer than expected. However! I feel more confident now that I know where I'm going, so I won't keep you all in suspense any longer :3

_Hey Yakkun, where do you go to meet guys?_

It was Monday, and Kuroo was feeling simultaneously drained after all the socialising he had done that weekend, and hungry for more. Kenma had insisted on walking home alone the previous evening. After he left, Kuroo hadn't been able to stop thinking about what his mother and Bokuto had both said, that maybe he was just lonely for some company. He supposed it couldn't hurt to try. 

Two minutes after he texted Yaku, his phone started ringing.

"Yakkun," Kuroo answered in a cheerful voice. "To what do I owe the honour?"

 _"Do not,"_ Yaku said crossly. _"Why the hell are you asking me something like that?"_

Kuroo frowned. "I'm just curious. Everyone's pushing me to date. I figured with a guy it might be easier, less strings."

 _"You're an idiot,_ " Yaku said, but Kuroo could tell that he was already halfway to giving in. _"So, what are you asking for, a club or something?"_

"Or something," Kuroo said, wincing slightly. He had been out to clubs occasionally, usually with Bokuto, or friends from university. They weren't particularly his scene. "Don't we have apps for this now?"

 _"So it's just about sex then."_ Yaku's voice was matter of fact, but there wasn't any judgement in his tone. No more than usual at least. 

Kuroo grunted. "I didn't say that."

_"Whatever, Kuroo. Of course there are apps for this. Couldn't you have figured that out without bothering me about it?"_

"Maybe I just wanted to talk to my dearest friend."

 _"Ha!"_ Yaku said loudly. _"That's funny, put that on a birthday card."_

"Ha ha."

Yaku sighed. _"Alright, well, there's this one called Backroom, give that a try. It's kind of a hookup thing for guys."_ He cleared his throat. _"So I'm told."_

"Uh huh. Still living that lie, are we?"

_"And you can fuck off."_

"Thanks, Yakkun. Love you."

Yaku hung up. As thanks, Kuroo sent him a picture of Baron covered in little doodled hearts, before looking up the app Yaku had mentioned on his phone. 

Along with some basic information to make a profile, the app asked for a photo. Well, that was pretty standard. Kuroo uploaded a picture he'd taken of himself and Baron, and a selfie that he'd taken at the hotel the previous weekend. He filled in a few details: height, weight, city, and moved on to answering some generic questions about the kind of person he was looking to meet. Twenty or thirty questions in he got bored, and forced himself to put down his phone and go back to marking the homework that he'd been ignoring since Friday. 

After about an hour, Kuroo took a break to make himself something to eat, and picked up his phone to text Kenma. Before he got that far, he noticed that he had received a few messages on _Backroom_ and clicked over to look. 

They were, in a word, uninspiring, and mostly varied from ‘hi’ to ‘u got dic pic?’. The app had also started to generate matches for him, and Kuroo scrolled through listlessly. Most of the men were too young, or too old, or obviously using the app to hook up with men without their wives finding out. The whole mess with Akina was still a little too raw for him to consider that option. 

Just as he was about to give up, another message popped up in the corner, and he swiped it open. 

_how many chemists does it take to change a lightbulb?_  
_that's not a joke, genuinely curious_

Kuroo grinned. That was an improvement.

_Depends on the chemist_  
_The real question is how many of them are standing on chairs_

_lol_  
_not you I guess_

_Guilty_  
_Kuroo by the way_

_fujikage_  
_nice to meet you kuroo_

They chatted for a little while, Kuroo sending messages in between chopping vegetables and frying up ingredients to make his curry. As he sat down to eat, Fujikage asked for a photo of what he'd made, and Kuroo gently pushed Baron out of the way so that he could oblige. He sent the photo to his mother as well, just to reassure her that he was still feeding himself. 

_man that looks great_  
_i can't believe you're hot AND you cook. you're the whole package_

Their conversation up til now had been relatively innocuous, and Kuroo felt his ears get warm at the compliment.

 _Thanks_ , he wrote back, scrambling for something more to say.  
_Breakfast is my specialty_

It wasn't until he'd hit send that he realised how that might come across, but it was too late to take it back. Fujikage spent a couple of minutes typing, so he was either writing an essay or he kept backspacing and starting again. At last, he replied.

_hope this isn't too forward but you wanna have a drink?_

Kuroo hesitated. The nice thing about talking online was not having to show other people what a mess he was in person. On the other hand, he _was_ lonely, and having someone show some interest was undoubtedly flattering. Plus, unlike with Nita, he was spared the awkwardness of being in the same workplace as Fujikage if things didn't work out.

_Sure, why not_

_great!_  
_how about thursday? somewhere in koenji?_

_Sounds good :)_

_then it's a date :D_

 

 

Kuroo was running late on Tuesday. The work he'd been putting off all weekend had kept him up late the night before, and he arrived at the school with only five minutes to spare before his first class. 

He was usually careful to avoid running in the corridors, which was just as likely to get him in trouble as using his phone in front of students, but he couldn't help hurrying when he was so late. Most students were already in their classrooms, and the corridor leading to the second building wasn't too busy, or so Kuroo thought. Just as he turned the corner into the next building, he slammed into someone, and the armfuls of papers they were each carrying both went flying. 

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry—"

"I'm sorry—!"

Kuroo paused, and laughed briefly. "Ah, Nita-san, it's you."

She grinned at him. "We must stop running into each other like this."

"I'm really sorry," Kuroo said again, dropping to a crouch. "That was totally my fault. Let me help you—"

Between them they gathered up the spilled papers and workbooks, separating out Kuroo's work from Nita's. It didn't take long, but as Kuroo was already running late he couldn't help but be aware of the time.

"I was actually hoping to run into you," Nita said as they finally straightened up. "Although not so literally—"

The bell for classes began to chime, and Kuroo winced. "I'm sorry, is it something you can tell me in the next ten seconds?" 

Nita laughed. "Oh gosh, okay. Well, here goes. I wanted to ask if you'd like to go to a party with me this weekend."

Kuroo blinked at her. "Oh."

"Well, we can talk about this later," Nita said, glancing around at the students hurrying past them. She was blushing faintly. "Have a good day, Kuroo-kun!"

Kuroo stared after her for a moment, then he shook himself and hurried to the lab room to set up for his first class. 

On Tuesday mornings he had a class of new third years, and two of the girls who sat near the front kept smiling at him and whispering between themselves. He hoped they hadn't overheard his conversation in the hallway, and he couldn't help feeling annoyed with Nita for putting him on the spot like that, in front of students. 

Sure enough, his fears were confirmed when he assigned the class to carry out partner work, and the girls waylaid him almost immediately. 

"Kuroo-sensei!" said one, fluttering her eyelashes at him behind her safety goggles. "Are you really going on a date with Nita-sensei?"

"I'll be happy to answer your question, Miyabe-san, if you can tell me what my love life has to do with oxidation states."

"Does that mean you _are_ going on a date?" her friend put in. 

Kuroo sighed. "Hosoya-san, please concentrate on your practical work."

"Kuroo-sensei, so mean!" they wailed. 

He grinned at them. "If you both get a perfect score on your final exam, _then_ you can ask me about my love life."

"That'll never happen!"

"So cruel!"

Despite their complaints they went back to their work with no more complaints, and the rest of the morning passed relatively smoothly. At lunchtime, Kuroo avoided the staff room and sought out his mother in her office. She was just locking the door as he arrived, but one look at his shifty expression and she unlocked it again and ushered him inside.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"What did you say to Nita last week?" Kuroo asked, folding his arms and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "This morning she asked me out."

His mother winced. "So that's why you're here. Running away, Tetsurou, really?"

"I can hardly deal with this in the middle of a work day."

She sighed. "That poor girl."

Kuroo bristled. "Thanks a lot, Mom."

"Don't be so sensitive," she said crossly. "I just mean it's clear you're not interested in her."

"Oh," Kuroo muttered, letting his hands fall to his sides. "Yeah, I guess."

"It's not easy to like someone who doesn't like you back."

Kuroo made a poor attempt at a smile. "Speaking from experience?"

His mother still looked cross. "Did you give her an answer?"

"I didn't really get a chance," Kuroo said, shaking his head. "And I...kinda already have a date with someone else anyway."

She perked up at that, interest sharpening her features. "Oh? Anyone I know?"

"What? No, of course not."

"Ah well," she sighed, waving her hand to dismiss him. "Don't keep Nita waiting for your answer, will you? She's a nice girl."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, looking away. 

He made his escape soon after and retreated to his classroom, distracting himself with preparations for the next classes and making a futile attempt to work through some of the backlog of marking.

As soon as school finished, Kuroo excused the students who were on cleanup duty that afternoon and hurried to Nita's classroom. She was still speaking with a student when he arrived, so he crept into the back of the room to wait until she was finished. 

Nita looked up when he entered, but she merely gave him a slight nod in acknowledgment before turning back to her student. Kuroo pulled out a chair and sat down at one of the empty desks at the rear of the classroom, close to the window. It had rained for most of the day, but the downpour had finally stopped during the last class, and the sun was starting to break through the overhanging clouds. He propped his chin on his hand and stared out at the scenery, watching the wind move the trees that lined the street outside. 

Kuroo rarely thought of his own school days while he was teaching, but something about this view reminded him of his final year at Nekoma. He remembered one day, just before they went to Nationals, when Kenma had walked in on another third year girl confessing to him. Kuroo had never gotten many confessions, but as the captain who was leading his team to Nationals, there had been a small influx of requests. Kuroo wondered if Kenma would remember the incident; Kuroo had been embarrassed, but Kenma had just rolled his eyes and taken out his phone to wait for them to be done.

"Kuroo-kun?"

Kuroo jerked his head around, realising that he'd become lost in contemplation. "Nita."

She smiled and came over to sit on a nearby desk. "Daydreaming?"

"Something like that," he said with a faint smile. He sat up in his seat, watching the afternoon colours of the lightening sky play over her face. "Listen, Nita—"

"I'm so sorry about this morning," she said, interrupting him. She looked away from him, bowing her head as she spoke. "I didn't mean to...to ambush you with it. Especially in the hallway like that. I don't know what I was thinking." 

"Oh, no," Kuroo said in a halting voice. "That's okay, I—"

"No, no, it was rude of me," she said, glancing up quickly. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"Nah," Kuroo said, reassuring her with a smile. "It's not a problem. Let's start over, yeah?"

"Okay," Nita said, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, remember I mentioned my sister?"

Kuroo was puzzled for a moment, but then he remembered the impromptu lift home Nita had given him a couple of weeks earlier. "Right," he said, pointing a finger gun at her. "The one with no legs."

Nita laughed. "That's her. Well, she's having a party at the weekend and I have to bring someone with me on pain of death—or at least endless nagging—if I don't."

"Ah."

"My family are all in each other's pockets," she said with an apologetic smile. "I'll completely understand if you say no, but if you don't have anything better to do, then...I hope you'll consider going with me."

Kuroo turned to look out of the window again briefly, and hummed low in his throat. "I think I'm free. It's not a costume party, is it?"

"Not to my knowledge," she said, laughing again softly. "It's, um, sort of an engagement party."

"Oh," Kuroo said, looking at her in surprise. "For your sister?" Nita nodded. "Congratulations," Kuroo added, hoping that his smile didn't look as forced as it felt.

"Sorry, I hope that doesn't seem like a lot of pressure."

"No no, uh—" Kuroo trailed off awkwardly, searching for the right thing to say. "I have to ask, is this...a date?"

Nita's eyes widened, and Kuroo noticed that she began to blush faintly as she ducked her face away. "To be perfectly honest," she said after a moment, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear again, "I'm asking for selfish reasons. My sister is a year younger than me, and my parents are chasing me about finding someone to settle down with. If I take someone with me, they'll stop trying to set me up with every unmarried guy under thirty they know."

"Oh yeah," Kuroo said, wincing in sympathy. "That's a tricky one."

"I'll understand if you don't feel comfortable," she said, reaching her hand up to tug absently at the collar of her blouse. "But it would really help me out. And I'll return the favour, if I can!"

Kuroo sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. The idea of going to a party full of strangers made his skin crawl, but he already felt that he owed Nita for driving him home, and he didn't like the idea of her going to the party alone and feeling unhappy. 

"Okay," he said eventually, leaning forward across the desk. "Count me in."

Nita beamed at him. "Oh my gosh, thank you," she said, reaching forward to grab his hands. "You're a lifesaver. I promise not to let them grill you too badly."

"Ha, thanks," Kuroo said, making a face. "I don't hold up well under interrogation, just ask my mom."

Nita laughed. "I believe you." She looked down at their joined hands, and then released him quickly before getting to her feet. "Well, I'm probably keeping you from something, I'll let you go."

"I mean, I'm assuming my lesson plans won't write themselves," Kuroo said, getting slowly to his feet. "Text me about the weekend, yeah?"

"Yessir," she said, dashing off a dorky salute. 

Kuroo grinned and returned it as he walked backward a few steps to the door. "See you tomorrow."

 

 

_Congratulations, you're blocked_

Kuroo read Yaku's text while he picked at the bento his mother had brought to school for him the following day. She had entertained some friends the night before with a potluck and cards, and brought him leftovers as penance for not inviting him. Kuroo was determined to sulk all the same.

_Blocked? Why? What did I do?_

_You keep popping up every time I open backroom_  
_I had to see enough of your weird nipples when we were in school_  
_I've done my time_

_!!!_  
_Yakkun how could you! You saw my profile, it's only fair that I get to see yours_

_Not in a million years_

Kuroo sighed and resigned himself to the fact. Truthfully, he didn't really want to see what Yaku looked like when he was trying to get laid. They had shared a brief, awkward fling in their third year, and Kuroo had been only too happy to agree when Yaku demanded they put a stop to it. They hadn't been so much dating as sharing hormone-fueled fumbles in ill-advised places. Kenma finding them in the gym storage closet had been the last straw for Yaku, and Kenma had avoided Kuroo for almost a week in sheer disgust. 

_Hey guess what tho I got a date tomorrow_

_Fuck off_  
_Who is it?_

_Not telling_

_Come on, I just want to know if I've slept with him_

Kuroo made a face. 

_Definitely not telling_

_Suit yourself_

_Actually I do want to ask your advice..._

Kuroo sent the message and waited. He and Yaku had always been pretty terrible at texting each other; they tended to piss each other off and misunderstand each other in stupid ways. Yaku was probably his only friend who actually preferred talking on the phone to texting. Sure enough, Kuroo barely waited a minute before his phone rang. 

"Yakkun—" he answered, getting to his feet and ducking out of the staff room.

_"Is this going to make me roll my eyes?"_

Kuroo laughed as he pushed through the door into the deserted stairwell. "That's your first question?"

Yaku sighed. _"I know you too well. Come on then, what's this about needing advice?"_

"Okay," Kuroo said, leaning back against the wall. "So I have this date tomorrow, but I also agreed to go to a party with someone at the weekend. Just as friends, I mean, but I'm kind of going as a cover so her parents don't keep trying to set her up with people?"

Yaku groaned loudly. _"Tetsurou—"_

"Also we work together?"

_"Oh my god. How do you get yourself into these things?"_

Kuroo huffed. "I'm just helping out a friend, it's a nice thing to do. What am I supposed to do, just say no?"

 _"Yes!"_ Yaku said, sounding exasperated. _"That's what anyone else would do."_

"Great," Kuroo said, his voice coming out more snappish than he'd intended. "Next time I'll just be a jerk."

Yaku groaned again. _"Saying no to stuff you don't actually want to do isn't the same thing as being a jerk, Kuroo. You're allowed to put yourself first, you idiot."_

Kuroo scowled. "Who said I didn't want to do it?" he snapped. "I just wanted to know if you thought I should tell my date about it."

 _"How should I know?"_ Yaku said, his voice getting catty in response to Kuroo's tone. _"I thought you said you were just friends, why would you need to tell someone you just met that you're going to a party with a friend?"_ He sighed. _"Then again, I'm not the one lying to people."_

"Hey, not cool, Yakkun," Kuroo said, kicking his toe against the concrete floor. "I'm just—"

_"You know what, Kuroo, just save it."_

"Yakkun—"

_"Later."_

Yaku hung up, and Kuroo clenched his fingers tight around his phone. He wanted to throw it, as hard as he could, but he fought the impulse down. His second impulse was to text Kenma and complain, but he feared getting another reaction like Yaku's. Instead, he stood in the stairwell for several minutes, leaning back against the wall and waiting for his breathing to slow and his ears to stop burning, so that he could go back to the staff room without attracting attention. 

Eventually he picked himself up and went back to eat the rest of his bento. While he poked at it with his chopsticks, he texted Kai with his left hand. 

_I owe you a hundred yen_

In their first year at Nekoma, sick of Kuroo and Yaku squabbling, Kai had instituted a tax on fighting. No matter who started it, both of them had to pay him a hundred yen if they got into an argument. 

_Is everything okay? You need to talk?_

Kuroo sighed, finding himself smiling at his phone. It was too long since he'd seen Kai, and he missed him suddenly and fiercely. 

_Nah it'll blow over, always does_  
_How're Miyu-chan and the kids?_

_They're great. We all miss you._

Kuroo turned his phone face down on the table and bit his cheek. 

"Hey, Kuroo, you okay?"

Kuroo didn't look up to see who had spoken. He nodded quickly. "Bit my tongue," he said tightly, grabbing the lid to his bento box and snapping it shut. "I have to, uh—go."

He shoved his things into his bag and made a break for the door. Kuroo suddenly regretted contacting Kai at all; he'd already dragged far too many people into this mess that was his brain of late. There was no excuse for inflicting his whining on more of his friends. Out in the hallway, he slung his bag over his shoulder and started to walk in the direction of his classroom. His mind kept replaying the conversation with Yaku, the memory of Yaku's words making him feel sick and cross.

Part of him wanted to just keep walking to the end of the hallway and out of the doors that led to the gym. From there he could skirt around to the staff car park and—what? Wait by his mom's car until she finished work later that afternoon? Keep walking to the station and head home two hours early? He wasn't sure he even wanted to be at home right now. Perhaps he could go to a bar instead; a drink sounded pretty good right now. 

Instead of running away, he shut himself in his classroom and pulled out his phone again to text Kenma.

_You ever feel like everyone sucks except you?_

Kenma's reply was instantaneous. _That might be the most relatable thing you've ever said to me_

Kuroo laughed, just a little, but it was enough to lift his mood slightly.

 _Do you get it the other way too_ , Kenma sent.  
_Where everyone's fine except you_  
_And you know you're just a waste of space_

 _Jeez Kenma_ , he wrote back with shaking hands.  
_You need to talk buddy?_

_Just asking_  
_I'm fine_

Kuroo snorted and put the phone down so he could run his fingers through his hair. He still felt a little shaky, and realised that perhaps he was coming down from the adrenaline of fighting with Yaku. He reluctantly pulled a cereal bar out of his bag and chewed it without enthusiasm.

 _Hey,_ he texted Kenma when he was finished. _I need a drink. Wanna go out later?_

_Sorry, can't tonight_  
_Why don't you call Suga or someone_

The thought of seeing Suga gave Kuroo mixed feelings, but of all of his friends, Suga was definitely the one to take drinking. 

_Will do. Let's hang out again soon tho, miss you :3_

_Ugh_  
_Fine :3_

 

 

Kuroo woke the next morning feeling vaguely queasy. He felt that perhaps drinking with Suga on a school night had been ill-advised, but it had at least taken his mind off things, and Suga had been miraculously silent on anything related to Kuroo's feelings. 

Kuroo was only mildly surprised to find Suga asleep on his couch, with Baron curled up on his chest and purring ferociously. 

"Traitor," Kuroo mumbled, as he staggered past on his way to the bathroom. 

Suga was awake when he returned, already making them breakfast in Kuroo's kitchen. 

"Morning, handsome," Suga said, ushering him to a chair and setting a mug of tea in front of him. "Sleep okay?"

Kuroo groaned. "Drinking with you was a mistake."

"Impossible," Suga said, grinning at him. "I am a delight."

Kuroo rolled his eyes and took a grateful sip of his too-hot tea. "I can't remember," he said, as Suga set a bowl in front of him. "Did you stay over because we were wasted, or to keep an eye on me?"

Suga caught his gaze and held it. "Can't it be both?"

"I don't need a babysitter," Kuroo said, endeavoring to keep his tone light. 

"I know that," Suga said, taking a seat beside him. "I'm not trying to be one." He ate a mouthful of rice, and then sighed. The cheerful demeanour slipped momentarily, and Kuroo realised just how tired and worn out Suga looked. He was pale, the dark circles around his eyes pronounced. Suga caught him looking and smiled. "I'm just trying to be a friend, Tetsurou."

Kuroo swallowed his tea. The food Suga had made smelled wonderful, but Kuroo's stomach suddenly felt like a tight knot of guilt and anxiety. "You are," he said thickly. "You're—a great friend, Suga. I don't deserve you."

Suga snorted. "Not how it works, but okay."

Remembering the way Suga had leaned into him at the party when Kuroo had been feeling miserable and alone, he shuffled his chair to the side and pressed his arm against Suga's. "Thanks for being here."

"Mm."

"And get some sleep, okay?"

Finally, Suga laughed. "I'll try." He glanced up at the clock. "Aren't you going to be late?"

"Fuck."

 

 

The whole day Kuroo seemed to be running behind schedule, and had to rush home at the end of work in order to get out in time to meet his date. 

Somehow, he'd gotten to the age of twenty-nine without ever using a dating site to meet someone, but it wasn't his first blind date, and he felt the familiar mix of nervous anticipation and nausea as he stood and waited for Fujikage outside the izakaya. Somehow he had run through about six different outfits, missed the train, and still managed to arrive early. 

The extra time did not reassure him. He was antsy, bouncing on his feet and looking around. His fight with Yaku kept playing over in his mind, and he was tempted to call, or text, but he forced himself to leave his phone in his pocket. 

"Kuroo-san?"

He turned, caught by surprise, and found a man standing beside him, smiling nervously. 

"Hey!" Kuroo said, greeting him with a warm smile. "Fujikage, right? It's good to meet you."

"Thank you," Fujikage said, his smile widening. "You too. Shall we go inside?"

Fujikage was considerably shorter than him, just a few centimetres taller than Kenma, and had short hair and a smile that dimpled. His front teeth were a little crooked, which Kuroo found strangely charming. 

They ordered drinks, and Fujikage opened the conversation by asking Kuroo about his favourite things to eat and drink. From there they moved on to favourite places in the city, before the conversation lulled briefly.

"So, you're a teacher, right?" Fujikage asked, picking up where Kuroo had fallen silent. 

Kuroo nodded and rolled his beer bottle between his palms. "Yeah, high school." He looked up through his eyelashes and gave Fujikage a little self-deprecating smile. "What was I thinking?"

"Nah," Fujikage said, shaking his head. "I bet you enjoy it."

"I really do," Kuroo said, smiling faintly. "The kids are so great, and I do love my subject."

Fujikage grinned at him. "Well that's what makes a really good teacher."

Kuroo snorted. "Yeah, that coupled with endless patience and a shitload of paperwork. How about you? What do you do?"

Fujikage looked a little sheepish. "Ah," he said, scratching his cheek. "Nothing exciting. I work for a little finance corporation, I'm a data engineer."

"You must be pretty smart," Kuroo said with an encouraging smile. "Did you study maths or something?"

"Mm," Fujikage said, nodding. "I actually thought about being a teacher for a while, but I'm not very good with kids, and my professor wanted me to stay on as a postgraduate, but I don't have much interest in research."

"Sounds like your job suits you well then."

"Ah, yes, I suppose it does."

They both fell into silence again after that, and Kuroo tried desperately to think of something to say. He used to be good at making conversation out of nothing, a skill he'd inherited from his mother, but he seemed to have lost the knack for it recently, constantly second guessing the worth of everything he said. 

"So," Fujikage said at last, saving him from his thoughts. "Have you—" He paused and laughed uncomfortably. "Actually, this might be a strange question."

Kuroo shrugged. "Why not?"

"Well," Fujikage said with a shy smile. "I was going to ask if you'd met many people through _backroom_ yet."

"Oh," Kuroo said, and laughed. "You're actually the first guy I talked to, which now that I think about it probably sounds really terrible." He grinned. "I only just signed up the day you messaged me, and yours was the only message I got that wasn't, uh—how do I say it—"

"Wasn't about the size of your dick?"

Kuroo grimaced. "Am I being too fussy?" he asked, with a wry smile. "I know that finding a hookup is kind of the point, but..."

Fujikage smiled at him. "No, I get you. And, for the record, I'm flattered to be your first." As soon as he'd stopped speaking, a look of horror slowly passed over his face. "That's not—I didn't mean for that to come out like that."

Kuroo burst out laughing. He caught a glimpse of the relief that flashed over Fujikage's face, before he too began to laugh. 

"Oh, man," Kuroo said after a minute, struggling to compose himself. "I was worried I'd have to really disappoint you there."

They called it a night soon after, as Fujikage had an early start the following day, and walked to the station together at a sedate pace. Somehow it was easier to talk while they were walking, instead of sitting across a table from one another, and Kuroo found that he didn't mind when Fujikage moved closer, enough for their hands to brush as they walked. He found himself stealing glances, trying to puzzle out if he was attracted to Fujikage or not, and blushed faintly when he realised Fujikage kept glancing across at him too. 

At the train station they bid farewell. Fujikage looked for a moment as though he would lean in, and Kuroo was relieved when he seemed to change his mind, and stepped back as a crowd of people passed them. 

"Well, goodnight, Kuroo-kun," Fujikage said, smiling at him.

Kuroo grinned. "Night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter was a little Kenma-light, I promise he'll be back soon! Please do reblog/RT/comment if you enjoyed :D 
> 
> And, as ever, if you feel like Kuroo feels, please find someone you can talk to about it :3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Despite having made plans, a part of Kuroo wanted to stay home and wait for Kenma, but knew that if he did he'd probably lose his nerve and cancel altogether. Being around Kenma was too tempting; it made him want to curl up on the couch and forget about all of his other worries and commitments._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fingers crossed I'll manage to get out the last few chapters before the muse flits away again :D I've updated the chapter count with an _estimated_ final count but I usually get it wrong so we'll see!
> 
> (we writers always say this, but comments and reblogs etc really do help speed the process!)

As the time for Kuroo's not-date with Nita approached, he began to feel more and more anxious about going. It wasn't just the idea of lying to her friends and family—although that certainly didn't help—but the fight with Yaku was still preying on his mind. He had briefly considered asking Kenma's opinion, but dismissed the idea just as quickly as it came. Kenma shied away from most social engagements; the idea of going through with one just to be polite would fill him with dread. 

Nita texted Kuroo on Saturday morning to confirm when and where they would meet, and as Kuroo replied to assure her that he would be there, he felt the waters rise around him.

 _Hey_ , he texted Fujikage. _Got time for a coffee?_

As if Baron could sense Kuroo's anxiety, he hopped up with a little chirp, and started kneading Kuroo's thigh through his sweatpants. 

"Hi there, kitten," Kuroo murmured, putting his hand out for Baron to rub his ears against. Baron obliged, then stood up on his back feet and put his paws on Kuroo's chest, leaning up nuzzle into his shoulder. 

Kuroo grinned. "Shall I get Uncle Kenma to come and catsit, hm?" Baron huffed loudly in his ear and Kuroo laughed. "Okay, but you have to promise not to fall in love with him. You're _my_ boyfriend, okay?"

 _impromptu coffee date!_ , Fujikage replied after a few minutes.  
_i have somewhere to be at 3 but i'm yours til then_

Kuroo let out a sigh of relief. _Let's meet in an hour._

Getting up from the couch, Kuroo texted Kenma as he went to change into something more presentable. To his relief, Kenma was only too happy to spend the evening with Baron, although he seemed disappointed that Kuroo wouldn't be there. After a few moments, Kuroo shrugged off the feeling, telling himself that he was probably imagining it. Kenma's tone was difficult to read at the best of times, let alone through a text.

Despite having made plans, a part of Kuroo wanted to stay home and wait for Kenma, but knew that if he did he'd probably lose his nerve and cancel altogether. Being around Kenma was too tempting; it made him want to curl up on the couch and forget about all of his other worries and commitments. Besides, Kenma claimed he had work to do, and Kuroo would only distract him from that. 

Fujikage was already waiting when Kuroo arrived at the cafe, and greeted him warmly. Like the first time they'd met, Kuroo found himself charmed by Fujikage's easy smile, the way his cheek dimpled when he grinned, and the cute little gap between his front teeth. 

They talked aimlessly for a while. Kuroo couldn't tell if it was just the strange mood he was in, or if the atmosphere between them had shifted, but it seemed harder to make conversation than their first meeting. Fujikage didn't seem fazed, which was the only thing that kept Kuroo from grabbing his coat and leaving again. It was easy to assume that the awkwardness all lay with himself when Fujikage didn't seem to have noticed it. 

Having already covered work and family, they talked about their interests and reminisced about their old schools before eventually straying onto the subject of pets.

"I'd like a pet, but my building doesn't allow them," Fujikage said with a wistful smile. "One day I'm going to get a dog."

"I love dogs," Kuroo said, seizing onto a topic he could get enthusiastic about. "Do you have a favourite? I really like big dogs, although they take a lot of work. At least cats mostly keep to themselves."

Fujikage made a face. "I'm definitely a dog person."

"Yeah, I am too, deep down," Kuroo said, unable to help the little twinge of anxiety at Fujikage's reaction.

"Thank goodness," Fujikage said, laughing softly. "I can't stand cats, they're awful animals. At least you know a dog really loves you back, cats just stick around because they know you'll feed them—"

"Wait, wait," Kuroo said, laughing awkwardly. "You know—cats can be really affectionate too."

Fujikage hummed in obvious disagreement, but didn't contradict him. "Well, I'm allergic to cats anyway, so I guess I wouldn't get the chance to find out."

Kuroo's heart sank. "Oh, that sucks."

"It's fine," Fujikage said, grinning and waving a dismissive hand. "I don't like them anyway, so it's not important."

"That's true," Kuroo mumbled, picking up his coffee. 

"Do you have any pets?" Fujikage asked, looking at him eagerly. 

Kuroo almost choked on his drink. "Well," he hedged, when he'd caught his breath. "I actually have a cat."

Fujikage's smile turned into a look of horror. "Oh, no."

Kuroo laughed awkwardly. "Yeah. I've had him for about two years."

"I am an idiot," Fujikage mumbled, putting his hands over his face. 

"Nah, you didn't know."

Fujikage shook his head. "Still, sorry if I offended you." He sighed and gave Kuroo a crooked smile. "It's a shame though, being around them gives me hives."

Kuroo pressed his lips together in approximation of an apologetic smile. "Guess this means I'm dumped."

"No, no," Fujikage said quickly. "I mean—if that's what you'd prefer, then—but it's not the end of the world, is it?"

The silence stretched out a moment too long before Kuroo hurriedly assured him that it wasn't. Fujikage smiled, but he didn't look especially relieved, and Kuroo still felt guilty when Fujikage finally had to leave about fifteen minutes later. 

"I'll text you?" Fujikage said as they parted at the station again. He looked uncertain, biting his lower lip as he glanced up at Kuroo. 

Feeling impulsive, Kuroo ducked down and kissed his cheek. Fujikage immediately turned pink, his mouth tilting up at the corners. 

"See you soon," Kuroo promised, with a sly quirk of his lips. 

It wasn't until he'd caught the train back to his apartment that Kuroo realised he'd forgotten to tell Fujikage about his plans with Nita. Again, he thought about calling her to cancel, but having to explain himself felt like a worse fate than just going through with it. He already felt tired at the thought of going out again, moreso at the idea of interacting with a roomful of strangers.

His phone buzzed and Kuroo checked it, silently hoping for an excuse to stay at home. 

_Gonna be later than I thought_  
_Have fun tonight_

Kuroo winced. He'd told Kenma that he'd been invited to a party by a colleague, but hadn't mentioned the fact that he was going as a fake boyfriend. He hadn't told Kenma about his dates with Fujikage either. It felt strange to keep it from him, but then, Kuroo hadn't told him about what happened with Bokuto either. Kenma had always kept his own crushes and relationships close to the chest, and Kuroo had followed suit. 

_Don't really wanna go_ , he wrote back as he shimmied out of his jeans and got back in bed. Baron hopped up to join him, and Kuroo settled down with a sigh.  
_I just got back in bed, I'm a pathetic wretch_

_So don't go_  
_Can I still come and see Baron_

Kuroo laughed weakly and curled up around Baron. He set an alarm on his phone, texted Kenma in the affirmative, and promptly fell asleep.

 

 

After a fitful sleep, Kuroo woke up more than two hours after his alarm had gone off, leaving him very little time to get ready. Swearing, he jumped out of bed and threw himself into the shower. 

Despite oversleeping, he just about made it to his meeting with Nita on time, but hurrying had made him antsy and worried. As they walked the short distance to her sister's apartment, Nita filled him on a few crucial details about her family and herself, but Kuroo still felt woefully unprepared.

"Tell me again," he said as they stood on the doorstep of her sister's apartment. "Just how intimidated should I be?"

Nita grinned. "Only a little. Don't worry, I've told them to go easy on you, or else."

The door opened before Kuroo had the chance to reply and they were greeted by a petite woman who, given the resemblance, could only be Nita's sister. 

"Nee-chan, you made it! And this must be Kuroo-san."

"Everyone just calls me Kuroo," he said, smiling politely. "Thank you for inviting me, Nita-san."

"Haruka, please," she said, beaming at him. "Come in, come in!"

She hustled them inside, Nita and Haruka chattering loudly while Kuroo slipped off his shoes, feeling awkward and out of place. Nita took his arm as they stepped into the busy front room, and Kuroo found himself grateful for the contact.

"Your family aren't cannibalistic, are they?" he asked, glancing around nervously at some of the suspicious looks they were getting. He couldn't help but feel that they were going to get found out. 

Nita laughed and hugged his arm tightly. "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

"That's reassuring, thanks."

Nita introduced him to her sister's fiance, Hoshizaki, a small, unassuming guy with a shy smile who worked in banking. There were other names and smiling faces, but Kuroo's nerves pushed all of them out of his head almost instantly. They all seemed to accept him without asking too many questions, which was a relief given that he and Nita hadn't come up with much of a backstory. 

A drink was pressed into his hands, and another shortly after, and Kuroo let himself be pulled into a casual discussion about books and movies. He hadn't watched anything recently except for the terrible action film he'd been to see with Kenma, and the only books he'd read had been nonfiction titles, so he hovered on the edges of the conversation for the most part until he was starting to feel pleasantly buzzed from the steady supply of drinks. 

"Kuroo," Nita said, snagging his arm again after a while and pulling him away. "Come on, I want you to meet someone."

"Another friend?" Kuroo asked, pulling his hand out of hers without thinking. 

"No, my cousin," Nita said, giving him an unreadable look. 

Nita's cousin looked a lot like Nita and her sister, though she seemed less friendly. Kuroo didn't take much notice, because almost as soon as they were introduced, the blonde woman at her side turned around and Kuroo almost dropped his empty glass in surprise. 

"Yacchan!" he said loudly.

Yachi looked up at him, wide-eyed. "Oh my gosh, Kuroo?"

Nita's cousin looked at Yachi, then cast a suspicious glance at Kuroo. "You know each other?"

"Of course!" Yachi said, laughing. "Um, Mayumi here is my roommate, she's Nita-san's cousin. Kuroo and I are old friends from school."

"Oh!" Mayumi said, her expression clearing somewhat. "Is he a basketball person too?"

"Volleyball!" Yachi said, scandalised.

Kuroo laughed. "I am, though it's been a while. One of my best friends plays for a professional team now. Yacchan knows him too of course."

"Makes sense," Nita said, nudging him and grinning. "There had to be a reason you're so tall."

"You don't sound like you're from the boonies," Mayumi said, giving Kuroo an imperious look.

Yachi laughed. "Well, we weren't actually at the same school—Kuroo went to our partner school here in Tokyo."

"We did go to the same university though," Kuroo said with a cheeky smile. 

"Oh? Which one?" Nita asked. 

"That's right!" Yachi said, blushing faintly. She leaned toward Mayumi. "Kuroo's two years older than me, he was the captain of his team in my first year. I was terrified of him."

Mayumi raised an eyebrow. "Why? What did he do?"

"Nee-chan!" Nita's sister interrupted suddenly. "Come and listen to this!"

Nita and her cousin were dragged away, and Kuroo breathed a sigh of relief as they went, leaving him alone with Yachi. 

"It's so nice to see you, Kuroo," Yachi said again, smiling at him. They hugged, Yachi standing on tiptoe to accommodate his height. She looked just as he remembered her from the last time they'd seen each other: bright and cheerful, her expression open and friendly. 

Kuroo couldn't help but wonder if any of his friends were as empty inside as he was; perhaps they were better at hiding it. 

"How've you been?" Yachi asked.. "Are you here with Nita-san? Oh, um, I mean Keiko-san."

"That's right," he said, accepting another drink from Nita's fiance who was passing. "We work at the same school."

"Oh yes! You just moved back recently, didn't you?"

Kuroo nodded, but Yachi continued before he could say anything. 

"I'm so sorry things didn't work out between you and Akina," she said, with such a earnest, caring look that Kuroo didn't mind the fact that she'd made him think about Akina again. "Still," Yachi went on, "Keiko-san is really lovely, hopefully the two of you will be happy together."

"Oh, that's not—" Kuroo said before his brain caught up. He winced, and leaned in closer. "We're not actually together, but uh—Nita-san didn't want to come alone?" 

"Oh!" Yachi said, giving him a strange look. "So you're just friends?"

"Well, technically I think everyone's supposed to _think_ we're dating."

Yachi looked doubtful. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Kuroo snorted. "Absolutely not, but I'm here now."

They stood talking for a short while. Yachi admitted that her roommate had dragged her along under protest, and they commiserated about how much they would rather have been at home. After Kuroo had finished his third—fourth?—drink, Yachi admitted that she'd been too nervous to fetch herself a second drink since arriving, so Kuroo cleared a path to the kitchen.

After helping themselves to more drinks, they stayed in the kitchen to talk, reminiscing about school and catching up on mutual friends. Other guests passed in and out, and Kuroo awkwardly fielded a couple of well-intended congratulations on his relationship with Nita. Each time it happened, he caught Yachi looking away with something like disappointment on her face. 

"So how's Hinata doing? Kenma said he moved back home?"

Yachi nodded. "For work. And his little sister got into Sendai University on a volleyball scholarship, so he wanted to be close to her again."

"He's a good kid."

"He is," Yachi said, grinning. "It's nice that you and Kenma are back in touch too, I know he missed you."

Kuroo's eyes widened. He hadn't really let himself wonder how Kenma had felt about their long time apart from each other. There was no reason Kenma _shouldn't_ have missed him, but it still felt strange to hear. 

"That's—yeah, me too," Kuroo said, stumbling over his words. "I'm happy we found each other again."

Yachi nodded. She glanced at the empty drink in Kuroo's hand and cleared her throat. "Kuroo, have you—"

"There you are!" 

They were interrupted by the sound of Nita's voice as she stepped into the kitchen. 

"Kuroo," she said, grinning. "Want to dance?" She mimed doing a little dance to the song playing in the other room.

Kuroo laughed. "Nah, I'm all left feet, I'd probably trample you."

Nita shrugged and turned to Yachi. "Hitoka-chan? Can I tempt you?"

"Oh...I don't know," Yachi said, looking around nervously. 

Laughing, Kuroo gave her a gentle push. Or he intended to, but Yachi stumbled forward a couple of steps. "Uh, sorry," Kuroo said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "But you should go and have fun, we can catch up later."

Yachi set down her drink and saluted him. "Yessir!" 

After Yachi left, Kuroo was approached by Nita's cousin, who claimed that she couldn't bear to see him standing alone. She dragged him out of the kitchen and attached him to a group of people, introducing him loudly. 

"It's so unfair," said someone in the group, apparently picking up a topic from before he'd arrived. Turning around, he realised that Nita's cousin had disappeared, leaving him alone on the shore of this conversation. He recognised Haruka and her fiance, and a couple of their friends that he'd been introduced to, and had immediately forgotten the names of. It was one of the friends who'd spoken, a friendly-looking woman in her early twenties, who was clinging to the arm of her boyfriend. "You should get preference over people like that."

"People like what?" Kuroo asked, hoping he didn't sound too rude.

Haruka gave him a tight smile, and the other woman spoke. "Haru-chan and Hoshizaki-san couldn't get the booking they wanted in Sapporo because it had already been reserved by two women."

Kuroo blinked. "For what?"

"For a wedding," Haruka said, still smiling awkwardly. "But it really doesn't matter, we're still very happy with—"

"It's not right," the woman went on, speaking over Nita's sister. "You should've been given priority. After all, it's not like they can have a _real_ marriage."

Kuroo felt his stomach fold itself into a tight fist. "Excuse me," he said, frowning. "But are you trying to say they don't deserve to get the wedding they want just because they're gay?"

The woman's smile slipped. Haruka looked horrified. 

"I don't like that word," the woman said, clinging tighter to her boyfriend's arm. "But there's a reason those kinds of relationships aren't recognised in the same way—"

"Yeah," Kuroo snarled, temper boiling over. "That reason is bigots like you who think you're better than everyone."

"Kuroo-kun," Haruka said desperately. "I'm sure Mei didn't mean—"

"Oh, I think her meaning was pretty clear," Kuroo said in the iciest voice he could muster.

Haruka's fiance stepped forward and put a hand on his arm. "Kuroo-kun, why don't we look for Keiko-chan?"

Kuroo wrenched his arm away, spilling his drink in the process. "I'll find her myself," he snapped. 

Turning away from them, he surveyed the party with a disdainful look, wiping his wet hand on the seat of his jeans. He didn't particularly want to see Nita, but there was nobody else he knew besides Yachi. He wondered if Kenma was having fun at home with Baron.

"Kuroo," said an urgent voice at his elbow. He looked down, expecting to find Nita, but instead there was Yachi.

"Yacchan," he said, relaxing. He rested his weight back against the nearby wall. "What's up? Having fun?"

Yachi looked worried. "Kuroo, can we talk?"

He waved a hand vaguely. "Go for it."

"Well, it's just—" Yachi shifted her weight, glancing around. "Maybe you could walk me to the station? Or I could walk you?"

"You wanna go?" Kuroo asked. He pulled his phone out of his pocket on his second try and stared blearily at the screen. "'s not even that late."

"You know me," she said with faux cheer. "Not really one for parties, and you don't seem to be enjoying yourself that much either."

Kuroo bristled. "What? Says who? Everything's fine, I was talking to people." He gestured again with his empty drink. "Y'know. Socialising."

Leaning closer, Yachi lowered her voice. "Kuroo, please come with me."

"Ohh," Kuroo said, smirking. He leaned forward, lowering his head to speak into her ear. "You wanna take me home, Yacchan?"

Yachi froze up for several moments, but when Kuroo tried to lean closer, she put her hands against his chest and pushed him away. 

"Hey," Kuroo said, frowning. "What is it?"

Yachi's mouth opened and closed, while her face turned from pink to scarlet. Finally she shook her head and stumbled away from him, into the crush of the party. 

Kuroo pushed himself away from the wall and took a step to follow her, but someone stepped in front of him. 

"Kuroo."

It was Nita. She looked angry and upset, her hands clenched at her sides and her cheeks flushed. She grabbed Kuroo's arm and dragged him through the apartment to the hallway.

"Wait—Nita, I have to—Yacchan is—"

"No," Nita said, pushing him toward the door. "You've done enough for one night, Kuroo. I think you should leave."

Kuroo stared at her, eyes widening. "What?"

"You—you're drunk," Nita hissed. "Get a taxi, go home, it doesn't matter. Just leave, please."

"Alright," Kuroo mumbled, turning around to search for his shoes. "Sorry."

Nita didn't reply. 

Kuroo left quietly. When he finally got home, Kenma was already gone, but he'd left half a bag of candy on Kuroo's coffee table, along with a note under the door that read, _kept your key, coming back for baron soon_.

Kuroo smiled and pinned the note to the fridge. He wished Kenma had still been there. He wished he didn't feel so pointless. Pulling out his phone again, Kuroo typed a short message to Yachi, apologising for his behaviour, only to realise he no longer had her number to send it. He put his phone away again, set down more food for a complaining Baron, and went to his room.

After putting his phone on to charge, Kuroo got into bed with his clothes on and cried until he fell asleep.

 

 

Sunday was a blur. Kenma texted at one point to ask if Kuroo wanted to come and watch him play a game, but Kuroo left the message unanswered until well into the evening, by which point it seemed pointless to respond. He ate a slice of toast at some point before crawling back into bed, feeling rotten all the way through. 

Monday was brighter, but Kuroo dreaded the idea of facing Nita. He went to school early, dodging his mother when he spotted her in a hallway, and managed to accost Nita as she arrived at work.

"Nita-san," he said, stepping out in front of her. "Sorry to ambush you, but—can we talk?"

Nita responded with a tight smile. "Of course," she said, though it was clear that the pleasant tone was only a veneer of her usual friendly manner. "But it'll have to be quick, I have to set up the classroom."

"Yeah, yeah, of course." Kuroo trailed off, and Nita looked at him expectantly. He half expected her to start tapping her foot. "Okay, well, I wanted to apologise for the way I behaved on Saturday."

"Alright," Nita said calmly.

Clutching his bag to his shoulder, Kuroo bowed his head. "I'm so sorry, I was inappropriate and I hurt your feelings, and you shouldn't have had to deal with that."

Nita sighed gently. "It's fine, I accept your apology."

Kuroo sighed in relief and raised his head. "Thank you, really. You probably noticed but I'm _really_ bad at parties. Please let me make it up to you?"

"Oh, no," Nita said, giving him a weak smile. "I appreciate the thought, Kuroo, but I think it's best if we don't spend too much time together, at least for now."

Kuroo's stomach lurched horrible. "Oh, okay."

"I'm sorry," Nita said, covering her face briefly. "It just—"

"No no, that's okay." Kuroo forced a smile, taking a subtle step backwards. "I get it, really. And, again, really sorry. Please, uh—please apologise to Haruka-san and Hoshizaki-san for me."

"Of course," Nita said quietly.

Kuroo nodded. "Yeah, I'd better—"

They parted awkwardly, and Kuroo put his head down and hurried off to hide in his own classroom. A part of him felt lighter for talking to Nita, but he couldn't escape the crushing knowledge that he'd set fire to a perfectly nice bridge. He couldn't understand why he'd drunk so much, let alone why he'd even agreed to go in the first place. Unbidden, Yaku's words returned to him. He really _didn't_ know how to turn people down.

Taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, Kuroo set about preparing the classroom for the day's lessons. 

Classes went smoothly, providing ample distraction from his thoughts, but when Kuroo was patrolling the hallway in the afternoon he was approached by the two third-year girls from his Tuesday morning class. 

"Kuroo-sensei!"

Kuroo looked up and gave them a wary smile. "Miyabe-san, Hosoya-san," he said, nodding. "Everything alright?"

"Did something happen between you and Nita-sensei?" Hosoya asked, her eyes bright. 

The question sent a pang of guilt lancing through him; Kuroo had forgotten that his students had seen he and Nita talking last week. 

"Do you really like each other?" Miyabe asked in a stage whisper. "Nita-sensei's ever so pretty, and she's so nice—"

"What did I say last week," Kuroo said, amazed when his voice was steady despite the roaring in his ears. "I won't answer any questions about my love life until you get a perfect score on your test. And I'm pretty sure Nita-sensei would be mortified if she knew you were gossiping about her like this."

The girls had the decency to look a little ashamed at that. "We just wanted to know," one said, while the other said, "You'd be so good together!"

Kuroo rolled his eyes. "Guys, come on. It's not a TV show, okay?"

"Sorry, sensei."

"Yeah, yeah. Go on, get back to your classroom."

The girls hurried away, and Kuroo kept up the smile long enough to escape into the staff toilet along the hallway. As soon as the door was shut behind him, he let out the breath he'd been holding in a rush. He fumbled for the sink and gripped it tightly, leaning over the basin as he struggled to catch his breath again. 

He remembered that horrible day, weeks ago, when he'd been shopping for a tie with Suga. The memory of it hurt to look at, but he forced himself to focus on the way Suga had sat by him and rubbed his back gently. He stared at himself in the mirror and took long, steady breaths. 

A couple of minutes passed and it got easier to breathe. Kuroo ran the water until it got cold and stuck his hands under the tap. He held them there until they began to hurt, gritting his teeth against the pain. When his fingers had gone numb, Kuroo clumsily turned the tap off again and dried his hands. They were shaking, but he felt steadier than he had before. 

As the drowning sensation faded away, Kuroo was left with a blaze of anger in his chest. He'd been doing better, he knew he had. It didn't seem fair that he could feel this way again with no warning. Kuroo shook his head and tried to collect himself before heading out to face the afternoon of lessons. 

He would talk to someone about this. He would.

 

 

"Why do you look so sorry for yourself?"

It was several days later, and Kenma sat across from Kuroo in a café. He didn't look as tired as usual, but his expression was the one that said _I'm tired of your shit, Kuro_. Kuroo didn't blame him. He was tired of his own shit too.

"I'd deny it," Kuroo sighed, "but your powers of perception are too good. I ran into Yachi at that party on Saturday."

"You're developing a knack for running into old friends."

"I guess I am," Kuroo said, wincing. "I seem to also be developing a knack for getting drunk and being a dick to Yachi."

Kenma frowned and tilted his head as if to say, _Go on_.

"I mean, I think things were weird between us that time we went to the beach. And on Saturday—" Kuroo groaned and covered his face with his hands. "God, Kenma, why am I such a fuck up?"

"I've seen worse," Kenma said, shrugging. "What did you do?"

Kuroo groaned again, and let his hands fall to the table, rattling the cutlery. "I made a stupid joke about us hooking up, I wasn't even thinking. She—I think I—god, I really fucked up."

"You apologised though, right?"

Kuroo grimaced. "I wanted to go after her but—well, whatever. I was gonna text her, but I don't have her number anymore."

"I'll send it to you," Kenma said, picking at the remains of his pastry. "How drunk were you?"

"In retrospect, pretty damn drunk." Kuroo shook his head, trying to blot out the memories. He was a disaster, and a terrible friend to boot. He could remember everyone's horrified faces when he yelled at Haruka's friend, and when Nita kicked him out; details he hadn't noticed at the time. He winced. "Not blackout drunk, but I was definitely an asshole."

Kenma studied him for several moments. His fingers still fidgeted with the flakes of pastry, and Kuroo found his eyes drawn to Kenma's hands; the grease on his fingertips from the dessert, and the way his nails were bitten down to the quick.

"That happen a lot?" Kenma asked at length, watching him carefully. "The drinking I mean."

"No? Just a normal amount." Kuroo glanced away. "I guess I drink more than I should, but who doesn't?"

Kenma was silent.

"It's not like I get drunk all the time," Kuroo went on, feeling compelled to fill the gap. "Just a drink now and then. It's weird living alone again, you know? And then when you go out, people always expect you to have a drink."

This time Kenma nodded. "I know what that's like."

"Yeah," Kuroo said, relieved to be understood. "The party was just awkward, you know? I didn't know anyone but Nita and Yachi, and I didn't really wanna be there."

"Why'd you go then?"

Kuroo shrugged. "Nita asked me to?"

Kenma snorted and shook his head.

"I know, I know," Kuroo moaned, covering his face again. "Yaku already gave me shit over it last week, you don't need to—"

"Yaku did?"

"Yeah." Kuroo glanced out of the window. It was weeks since he'd seen Yaku, he realised. They hadn't spent time together since the night he first ran into Kenma at the station. "I—I think he was right though. He's always right. Fuck, I'm an awful friend, aren't I?"

Kenma stuck a flake of pastry in his mouth and frowned at Kuroo. "You're down on yourself today."

Kuroo shrugged and looked out of the window. The small café felt oppressive, the dark walls too close, the voices of the other customers too loud.

"I think I wanna get out of here."

"Let's go for a walk."

Kenma paid for their drinks while Kuroo waited outside, taking deep lungfuls of air to try and stay the panicked feeling in his chest. He started walking as soon as Kenma joined him, not bothering to ask where they should go, or waiting for Kenma to catch up; he just needed to be moving. The claustrophobia diminished somewhat as they left the café behind, and Kuroo became aware of Kenma hurrying at his elbow, struggling to keep up with his long strides. 

"Sorry," Kuroo murmured, slowing his pace. 

"I'm used to it," Kenma said, but he seemed grateful that Kuroo had slowed down. 

They walked a few blocks in silence, until the pressure was too much and Kuroo felt himself burst. 

"I'm going to talk to someone," he said, his eyes fixed ahead of him. "About—about how I've been feeling."

A long silence followed his words, but Kuroo found that he didn't mind. He kept walking, focusing on the rhythm of his steps, matching his breathing to it. The further he walked, the calmer his mind became.

"That's good," Kenma said at last. He reached out and slipped one hand into Kuroo's coat pocket. 

Kuroo felt his face heat as Kenma tangled their fingers together. "I'm not a little kid," he joked. "You don't need to hold my hand."

"I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to," Kenma mumbled.

"Okay." Kuroo squeezed his fingers and leaned closer. "Thanks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can [reblog](https://notallballs.tumblr.com/post/163943945332/yall-spoil-me-tbh-3-common-side-effects)/[RT](https://twitter.com/notallbees/status/895798791298703360) a link to the fic if you feel like making my day! ( ˘⌣˘)♡
> 
> (and remember, if you feel low, please try and talk to someone!)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Kuroo loped along quietly at Kenma's side, listening to them talk. It was strange watching Kenma interact with another person; Kuroo realised that he'd had Kenma almost to himself every time they hung out so far. It hadn't really been that way between them since school, and he felt an old, familiar mix of envy and satisfaction watching Kenma talk easily with someone that wasn't him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember I said there would be more Kenma in upcoming chapters? :D

"Yacchan, I'm so, _so_ sorry about last weekend—"

It was the weekend following the disastrous party. Kuroo, Kenma and Yachi were walking through Ikebukuro to reach the planetarium, and at Kuroo's words, Yachi turned pink and almost tripped over her own feet. 

"It's okay!" she said, righting herself quickly. "It's really okay, I—"

"Don't embarrass her," Kenma said calmly, insinuating himself between them. He jostled Kuroo with his elbow as he reached into his pocket for his phone, though it was unclear whether he'd done it on purpose.

"I wasn't embarrassing anyone," Kuroo protested, though from Yachi's face it was clear that he had. He winced and mumbled another apology. 

Kenma rolled his eyes at Kuroo, making Yachi laugh. 

"It's really okay," she said with a tentative smile. "You already apologised, let's just put it behind us."

"Thank you," Kuroo said, nodding gratefully. 

"Finally," Kenma sighed, nudging Kuroo with his elbow again before turning to Yachi. "Did Shouyou say when he's visiting next?"

Kuroo loped along quietly at Kenma's side, listening to them talk. It was strange watching Kenma interact with another person; Kuroo realised that he'd had Kenma almost to himself every time they hung out so far. It hadn't really been that way between them since school, and he felt an old, familiar mix of envy and satisfaction watching Kenma talk easily with someone that wasn't him.

"What about you, Kuroo?"

He blinked into awareness at the sound of his name. "Sorry, Yacchan, what?"

Yachi smiled patiently, but Kenma was less polite. He kicked Kuroo in the shin and nodded to Yachi. "Hitoka asked if you want to do something with us when Shouyou visits."

Kuroo looked over at her in surprise. "Really? I'd love to."

"It's too long since we all spent time together," Yachi said, giving him an encouraging smile. 

Kenma nodded. "Agreed."

"You're in a good mood today," Kuroo teased, bumping Kenma's shoulder. 

"Fuck off," Kenma said lightly, but with his short hair there was no way to hide his faint smile. 

"What should we do when he visits?" Yachi asked.

"Skytree," Kuroo and Kenma said in unison.

Yachi burst out laughing, and Kuroo grinned and looked sidelong at Kenma. "Copycat," he murmured. Kenma pretended not to notice.

"Maybe the zoo," Kenma suggested after a moment.

Yachi gasped. "That's a brilliant idea!"

Kenma reached over and tugged on Kuroo's sleeve. "You're coming."

Kuroo nodded. "Would't miss it."

They reached the planetarium and Yachi stepped forward to present their tickets. 

"I haven't been here in years," Kuroo said, looking around him. The visitor centre had been refurbished since his last visit, and while he was busy looking at the posters of the different shows and exhibitions, Kenma sidled up beside him. 

"You're being weird."

Kuroo jumped at the sound of Kenma's voice in his ear. In revenge, he draped his arm around Kenma's shoulders and pulled him closer. 

"Excited to see Hinata again?"

"Obviously," Kenma replied, leaning against him. Kuroo was surprised that he didn't try to wriggle free, but opted not to question it, at least until Kenma reached up and jabbed him in the ribs with his fingertips. "By the way, stop acting like Hitoka can't handle your bullshit. She's known you long enough by now."

Kuroo felt a little flush of indignation and shame. "Yeah," he said, and reached up to ruffle Kenma's hair. 

"Kuro!"

Kuroo grinned. "What were you saying about my bullshit?"

Kenma snorted and shoved him off. 

"Kuroo! Kenma!" Yachi called out, waving to them. "Come on!"

The show was interesting, but Kuroo found that as soon as the lights went down he started to feel sleepy. Kenma was sitting in the middle, and Kuroo shuffled closer and leaned his head on Kenma's shoulder. 

"You're supposed to be watching," Kenma murmured. 

"I'm watching," Kuroo whispered, nuzzling his face into Kenma's hair. 

Kenma snorted softly, but didn't make any move to push him off. Kuroo let out a contented sigh and relaxed against him, enjoying the warmth of his body in the darkness. Something about the way he smelled was endlessly comforting. There had been a period in high school and the start of university where Kenma had avoided showering unless it was _absolutely_ necessary, which Kuroo hadn't missed, but he _had_ missed the familiar smell of Kenma's hair and skin. 

"Quit huffing me," Kenma muttered, reaching over and jabbing him lightly in the ribs again.

"Make me," Kuroo murmured. 

It wasn't until the lights came up at the end of the show that Kuroo realised he'd fallen asleep. He was fairly sure he'd only missed a few minutes, but Yachi and Kenma didn't hesitate in teasing him relentlessly as they made their way back out of the theatre. They spent a little longer looking around the exhibits, but Kuroo soon noticed that Kenma was getting twitchy without his phone or a games console in his hands, and he gently steered them toward the exit. 

The sun had fallen considerably in the sky by the time they stepped back out onto the street, but they debated amongst themselves and decided that it wasn't quite late enough to go for a meal. 

"Why don't we get a drink?" Yachi suggested, turning to face them. Her skirt twirled around her legs as she spun on the spot, and it took Kuroo a moment to notice her expression shifting from jollity to an awkward, forced smile. "Uh," she said quickly, looking from Kuroo to Kenma. "That is—I'm sure there's a café here, somewhere we can get a soft drink."

Kuroo felt the words like a spear in his side, and he stared at Yachi for a moment in shock. She was still trying hard to smile, and the sight of it made him feel rotten with guilt. Kuroo took a deep breath and forced himself to return her smile. He could hardly blame her for not wanting to be around him while he was drinking, not after his performance last weekend. 

"Sounds good," Kenma said, nudging past Kuroo and breaking the tense moment. He glanced over his shoulder and stared at Kuroo. He looked half-expectant, half-bored. 

"Yeah," Kuroo said, a beat too late. "Sounds great." 

They found a quiet café away from the crowds; Yachi and Kenma ordered coffee and cake, while Kuroo ordered tea and tried to ignore the unsettled feeling that rolled around in the pit of his stomach. 

The sensation began to ease as he sipped his tea, and he forgot it entirely when the waiter brought an absurdly oversized slice of apple cake for Kenma. 

"Do you eat anything besides sugar these days?" Kuroo teased, nudging Kenma's knee under the table. 

Kenma kicked him in return and picked up his fork. "Fuck off."

"Charming."

"You two really haven't changed, have you?" Yachi said after a moment, watching them with a fond expression. 

Kuroo shrugged and picked up his tea again. "I don't know about that," he said, glancing briefly at Kenma. "Kenma maybe. I don't think I'm that different."

"You are," Kenma said, through a mouthful of apple cake.

"Oh yeah?" Kuroo said, smirking. "Older and more disaffected than ever."

Kenma looked unimpressed, though instead of replying, he simply shoveled another forkful of cake in his mouth. 

"Can I try?"

Kenma frowned.

"Just a bite?"

Shrugging, Kenma broke off a piece of the cake with his fork and held it out to Kuroo. 

"You know," Yachi said thoughtfully. "Today feels kind of like a date."

Kenma's hand jolted suddenly and the fork clashed against Kuroo's lips and teeth. Kuroo winced, and licked a smudge of caramel off his lower lip.

"Sorry," Kenma mumbled, looking down at his food. 

"What makes it like a date?" Kuroo asked, looking over at Yachi and propping his chin in his hand.

Yachi looked back at him, her smile deceptively simple. "It just feels sort of romantic," she said, tipping her head to one side. "Don't you think?"

Kuroo shrugged and took a sip of his tea. "I suppose so."

"Yeah," Kenma said, between mouthfuls. "You're right."

They parted at the station later, promising to make plans again soon. Yachi pulled Kuroo into a tight hug, and he squeezed her back gratefully, lifting her off her feet. Kenma accepted a more moderate embrace, and they watched as Yachi disappeared into a crowd of tourists.

"Wanna hang out?" Kuroo asked, falling in step as Kenma turned away. "I have some work, but you could come over. Baron misses you."

"You don't cuddle him enough."

Kuroo laughed. "I'll have you know, I cuddle him for approximately seventeen hours a day."

Kenma shrugged. "See? Not enough."

"I'd argue, but in this case, I'm pretty sure I'm outnumbered. It's really unsettling how much Baron loves you."

"As long as you know it," Kenma said, pushing closer to Kuroo as the crowd thickened. "Will it bother you if I bring some work over?"

Kuroo frowned down at him. "Well, no, but shouldn't you take a break? You stayed at work until nine yesterday."

"Crunch time," Kenma said, shrugging. "I can do it at home."

"No, no," Kuroo said quickly. "I don't mind, but you're gonna have to put up with my nagging."

Kenma shrugged. "I'm used to it." He yawned and stretched, making the hem of his t-shirt and hoodie ride up. 

Without thinking, Kuroo caught hold of it and tugged it down to cover Kenma's bare stomach. When Kenma gave him a curious look, Kuroo pulled his hands away, shoving them deep in his pockets. "Sorry. It's cold."

"It's fine." Kenma turned away from Kuroo and then leaned back against him. "Wake me up when the train gets here."

 

 

The next week passed mostly without incident. Kuroo was fairly certain that Nita wasn't actively avoiding him, but the number of times they ran into one another in the hallways at school was considerably less than it had been before the party. When they did see one another she would smile and respond politely to his questions, but he didn't hold out much hope of them remaining friends. 

He and Fujikage met on Tuesday evening for another quiet drink. It was pleasant and comfortable, and Kuroo felt unaccountably guilty when he made an excuse about feeling tired in order to cut the evening short. It was almost a week since he had first met with his doctor and agreed to start taking a low dose of antidepressants, and the tiredness wasn't all a lie. Side effects aside, he still felt pathetic for making excuses. 

So when Fujikage texted him again on Friday to invite him over for a movie, Kuroo agreed without a second thought. 

He showed up at Fujikage's place a little early, and hung around in the street, trying to decide whether to call or to wait a few minutes. His mind was made up for him when a woman with an armful of shopping bags held the door open for him. 

"Ah, thank you," he said, glancing around in the vague fear that someone would accuse him of sneaking into their building. "I'm here to visit someone."

She smiled at him, but it was polite and distant, so Kuroo shut his mouth before he could say something to creep her out even more. He pulled out his phone and texted Fujikage.

_One of your neighbours let me in :O_

_come on up, 4th floor_

Kuroo skipped the elevator to take the stairs to Fujikage's floor. It only occurred to him as he crested the top of the second staircase that he was going to show up at the door sweaty. He slowed his pace, forcing himself to take the steps one at a time instead of his usual two. When he reached the correct floor, Fujikage was standing in the doorway of his apartment, and he smiled when he saw Kuroo.

"Hey, you made it. I thought maybe the elevator got stuck again."

Kuroo looked back, exaggerating his fearful expression. "It does that?"

"Yeah, every couple of months. You're not claustrophobic are you?"

"Nah," Kuroo said with an easy smile, as Fujikage motioned him inside. "Why, are you?"

Fujikage responded with a rueful grin. "I wasn't until I got stuck in the elevator."

"Ouch."

Fujikage laughed, stepping back into the hallway to allow Kuroo space to take off his shoes and coat. "It wasn't so bad. Hey, are you thirsty? I have beer, or uh, maybe a soda?"

Kuroo hesitated, but he reasoned that he was less likely to drink to excess with only one other person around. And, he figured it would help him relax. "I'll take a beer if you're having one," Kuroo said, nudging his shoes so they lined up relatively neatly.

"Hey, it's the weekend," Fujikage said, grinning. "Let's go wild."

Fujikage's apartment was much like his own; a generous person might call it cosy, and it had a bare quality to it that made Kuroo uncomfortable, as though everything had been tidied away minutes before he arrived. There was nothing on the walls, and all the furniture seemed a little dowdy, maybe second or third-hand. Kuroo wondered if his own apartment looked this way to strangers.

They sat and talked for a little while, but Kuroo was tired, and he couldn't help feeling relieved when Fujikage offered to put on a movie. While Fujikage hunted around for the DVD of a Korean movie he he been adamant Kuroo watch, Kuroo went to the kitchen and fetched them both a second beer. 

"Ah, thanks," Fujikage said when he returned. "You can leave mine on the table, I'm only half done." 

Kuroo nodded and resumed his seat on the couch. Fujikage had dimmed the lights while he was gone; Kuroo wasn't sure if it was meant to be a romantic gesture, or simply to set the mood for watching the movie, but he felt too self-conscious to ask. 

About half an hour into the movie, Fujikage shifted position on the couch, his arm falling loosely around Kuroo's shoulders. For a moment, Kuroo didn't react, and he felt Fujikage lean closer. 

"This okay?" he murmured in Kuroo's ear. 

Kuroo nodded and relaxed against him. "Yeah." 

Fujikage brushed his fingers over Kuroo's bicep, stroking his arm gently through his cardigan. It was sort of nice, being close to someone, even if their difference in height made it feel a little strange to have Fujikage's arm around him. Kuroo let his hand rest on Fujikage's knee, and tilted his head accommodatingly when Fujikage nuzzled the side of his neck. 

"Mm, Fujikage-kun—" he murmured.

"Kenjirou," Fujikage sighed, reaching up to cup Kuroo's jaw. "You can call me Kenjirou." He gave a gentle tug, turning Kuroo into a slow, open-mouthed kiss.

It wasn't the worst kiss Kuroo had ever had, but it was far from the best. Fujikage was a little overeager, the kiss just too sloppy to be excused by the lone beer he'd finished. Kuroo pulled back slightly, trying to steer things in a more favourable direction with the subtle pressure of his mouth, but Fujikage didn't seem to take the hint. Kuroo had never had to verbally correct someone's kissing technique before, and he felt himself flush, whether for himself or Fujikage, he wasn't even sure.

"Hey," he murmured, turning his head to break the kiss. "Thought you said this was a must-see."

Fujikage gave an uncertain smile. "Sorry," he said, letting his hand fall to his lap. "Too fast?"

"Ah, it's not that," Kuroo said, feeling guilty. He looked down, biting his lip. "Could we, ah—could you…"

Fujikage trailed his fingertips down Kuroo's neck, making him shiver. "It's okay, just ask me."

Kuroo flashed him a brief smile. "Maybe—a little softer?"

"Ahh," Fujikage said, wincing. "Sorry, yeah—"

"No it's fine, I—"

"Here, let me—"

Fujikage cupped his cheek again, fingers gentle against his jaw, and leaned in to kiss him slowly. It was a slight improvement over the previous onslaught, but even when Kuroo sucked on Fujikage's bottom lip, and slid a hand further up his thigh, Fujikage kept the kiss slow and gentle. Kuroo swallowed down a frustrated groan and reached up to cup the back of Fujikage's head, slipping his fingers into his short hair and tugging gently.

Fujikage was the one to break it off this time, licking his lips absently. "You're a really good kisser," he murmured.

"Oh, thanks," Kuroo said with a tight smile. Privately, he thought he _was_ a good kisser, but he wasn't sure how much he believed it coming from Fujikage. "Um, you too," he fibbed.

"I love your mouth," Fujikage murmured, kissing him again softly. 

There was something cloying about it that made Kuroo feel oddly strangled, and he pulled away again after a moment, this time turning his attention firmly to the movie. Fujikage didn't seem to mind; he leaned in, resting his head on Kuroo's shoulder, and put his hand over Kuroo's where it lay on his thigh. 

When the movie ended, Kuroo excused himself to use the bathroom. Like the rest of the apartment, it seemed bare, and when Kuroo opened the cupboard out of curiosity he found it jammed full of toiletries. He wondered why Fujikage felt like he had to hide any hint of his personality; was it just that they were still practically strangers, or was this something he always did with prospective lovers?

Fujikage was still sitting on the couch when Kuroo returned; he was rolling his beer bottle between his hands, and he gave Kuroo a nervous smile as he sat back down. 

"Hey."

Kuroo smiled at him. "Hey." He sighed and stretched. "I should probably head home."

"You can stay, if you want." Fujikage swallowed audibly. "Um, I'd like you to stay."

Kuroo looked away. "I—I dunno, I'm tired, and I have a lot of work to do tomorrow." He winced. "Sorry."

"No no," Fujikage said quickly, waving his hands in reassurance. "That's okay, I shouldn't have just sprung it on you."

Kuroo nodded. "Sorry, maybe next time."

"Yeah, next time."

Having reached a decision, Kuroo didn't feel that he should hang around any longer. He took his empty bottles to the kitchen to be recycled, then walked out to the hallway to grab his coat. Fujikage followed at a respectful distance, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. 

"Hey, um, I had a good time," Kuroo said, as he straightened up from pulling on his shoes. "I'll text you?"

Fujikage nodded. "Me too. Had a good time, I mean." He smiled. "See you, Kuroo."

 

 

Kuroo felt strange and alien as he stepped out onto the street. It wasn't very late, and although he was tired, he didn't feel like going home just yet. On the other hand, he was sick of performing, and the thought of being around other people made him want to sit down on the pavement and stay there. 

Feeling disgruntled, he put his hands in his pockets and began to walk in the direction of home. It was a long walk, but not _too_ long, and he didn't much feel like being crowded on a bus or a train just then. 

The fresh air helped to clear his mind. He had felt guilty when he left, but now that he was away, he felt that he'd made the right choice. Fujikage was nice, but going to bed with him was probably a bad idea. 

The walk took Kuroo through a slightly shady neighbourhood, derailing his thoughts slightly as he focused more on his surroundings than the possibilities he'd just left behind. He'd been walking for half an hour before he realised that he was veering in the direction of Kenma's apartment, rather than his own. Kuroo paused on the corner by a late night convenience store and glanced at his phone. It was just after ten; Kenma would probably still be awake, and his was just the kind of company Kuroo could use right now. Quiet. Not too many questions. No expectations.

Kuroo brought up Kenma's number and hit _call_ before he had time to consider what he was doing, or remember how much Kenma hated talking on the phone.

_"Kuro? Is everything okay?"_

"Kenma, hey," Kuroo said, relieved when Kenma picked up after only a couple of rings. "Sorry, for calling, I just—I wanted to make sure you wouldn't miss a message, I didn't really think—"

_"It's fine. What's wrong?"_

"Nothing! Nothing, just, my plans this evening fell through and I'm kinda heading past your place, if you wanted to hang out? Sorry, I know it's late, this is stupid."

Kenma made a soft noise of annoyance. _"You always talk as if I wouldn't want to see you. Come over."_

Kuroo let out a rush of breath, strangely relieved. "Okay. I'm by a convenience store, you want anything?"

_"Mm. Mochi."_

Kuroo grinned. "One bag of pure frozen sugar coming right up."

_"Bite me."_

"Not a chance, you're full of hidden calories."

Kenma snorted. _"Call when you get here, I'll buzz you in."_

Kenma had made tea when Kuroo arrived, and Kuroo sank gratefully into the nest of blankets on the couch. They were still warm, and Kuroo looked up with a guilty smile. "Did I steal your spot?"

"It's fine." Kenma passed him his tea before curling up in the blankets. Once he was settled, he turned his penetrating gaze on Kuroo. "Were you out with someone?"

Kuroo blinked at him, confused for a moment by the non sequitur. "How'd you know?"

"You smell like beer."

"Ah," Kuroo responded with a sheepish smile. "I only had a couple. I guess it was...a date?"

Kenma looked at him over the edge of his mug, his gaze unreadable. "You're not sure?"

Kuroo chewed the inside of his cheek while he tried to puzzle out how to word what he wanted to say. Talking about this with Kenma was strange, and always had been. As far as Kuroo knew, Kenma had never really dated anyone seriously. He wasn't even sure if Kenma was interested in people that way. "I met someone on a dating app. We've had drinks a couple of times, and tonight I went to his apartment."

"Ah."

"Not like that," Kuroo said quickly, although he wasn't sure why he felt the need to clarify. It wasn't as if he was afraid of offending Kenma. 

"Seeing him again?"

"I don't know," Kuroo said, frowning. "Well, no, I do." He sighed. "I feel weird about it."

"Weird how?"

"Well…" Kuroo began, throwing an awkward glance at Kenma before looking away. It wasn't the first time they had talked about people he was interested in, but it had been a long time. "When we talked online, I thought we'd get on well." He groaned. "That's not even it, we _did_ get on. He's funny and nice, it was just...it was fine."

Kenma was silent for several moments. "Fine," he repeated quietly. "No spark?"

Kuroo looked up in surprise. "That's it." He gave Kenma a crooked smile. "Didn't peg you for much of a romantic."

"Who said I was?" Kenma grumbled.

"Well, you know about _the spark_ ," Kuroo teased, more to annoy Kenma than anything. 

"It's overrated."

Kuroo stared at him in genuine surprise. "You really think so?"

Kenma shrugged, looking away from him. "You don't?"

"The spark is...what it's all about," Kuroo ventured. "Isn't it?"

"Mm," Kenma hummed, not looking very convinced. He frowned, and pulled at a loose thread in one of his blankets. "But," he said at length, "doesn't it just...go away? What then?"

Kuroo looked down at his tea, biting the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "I don't know. I think if you find the right person...it shouldn't ever go away."

Kenma huffed. "I can't tell if that's optimism or just being really stupid."

"Forget it," Kuroo said with a sigh. "I know you don't wanna hear about this stuff anyway."

Kenma's nose wrinkled. "If you want to talk, talk."

"I don't want to spill my guts to you when you don't tell me anything," Kuroo said. He endeavoured to keep the hurt out of his voice, but he could hear some of it leaking out anyway. "It's fine," he added quickly. "We didn't talk for a long time and I won't pretend we're the same as we were."

"I guess we're not," Kenma said after a pause. 

Kuroo sighed. "Kenma—"

"There just isn't much to tell," Kenma said in a reluctant voice. "You didn't miss anything worth seeing."

"You must have been doing _something_ for the past three years," Kuroo said, trying to inject a little levity into his tone. He smiled over his tea, but Kenma just stared dully back at him. Kuroo sighed. "It's just...you don't tell me anything unless I push, and I feel weird pushing." Kenma remained silent, and Kuroo unwisely pressed on. "I mean, do you date? Did you meet a cute guy online but it turned out he liked to play saxophone when he couldn't sleep so it didn't work out? You can just tell me stuff like a normal person."

"So you don't think I'm normal?" 

"That's not what—"

"I told you, I don't date. I'm not being coy, okay? I just...don't do that. I haven't done that. I used to hook up a lot I guess. It was unhealthy, so I stopped."

Kuroo felt his eyes widen as he stared at Kenma in surprise. "You did? Sorry, I just—honestly I thought maybe you weren't into that stuff."

Kenma looked away from him. He seemed bored by the conversation, or—no, not bored, but uncomfortable. His toes fidgeted where they hung over the edge of the couch and he kept turning his mug of tea around in his hands. 

"Kenma," Kuroo said softly. "What is it?"

Instead of replying immediately, Kenma took a sip of his tea, wincing at the heat. He swallowed heavily, and his gaze flicked over to Kuroo briefly and away again. "Remember that summer," he said at last. "At the beach?"

"Not as much as I probably should, but yeah, of course."

"I hooked up with someone," Kenma went on. He still wouldn't meet Kuroo's eyes, his gaze fixed unseeing on a point across the room. "One of Shouyou's friends. I was—really drunk. I barely remember it."

"We all drank a lot," Kuroo said, unsure of what else to offer. 

Kenma responded with a humourless smirk. "I only know about it because Shouyou walked in on us in the kitchen." 

"You had sex in the kitchen?" Kuroo hissed. 

"Yeah. Shouyou—he was mad at me for a while."

"Hinata? Really?"

Kenma shrugged. "I guess even your best friends can surprise you."

There was something wistful, perhaps self-deprecating about the way Kenma spoke. Kuroo wondered if he would still be counted as one of Kenma's best friends. He couldn't think of anything he'd done recently to deserve it. When the silence stretched on, he reached out and nudged Kenma's thigh with his foot. "Do I surprise you?"

To Kuroo's relief, Kenma didn't withdraw from his touch. He leaned closer instead, brow creased in thought. Not having expected him to answer seriously, Kuroo waited, watching him closely. 

"I was surprised when I saw you at the station the first time," Kenma said at last, meeting Kuroo's eyes. "I thought you were still in Nagoya."

Kuroo grinned. "That _was_ a surprise. I didn't recognise you with all your hair cut off."

"Oh...yeah," Kenma murmured, raising a hand to tug at a lock of hair that framed his face. "Did you like it better before?"

"Not better," Kuroo said. He leaned closer and gave the same lock of hair a gentle tug, then reached up and brushed Kenma's fringe back off his forehead. His hair was silky between Kuroo's fingers. "I liked it then," he murmured, catching Kenma's gaze, and marvelling at how large his eyes seemed with his hair pushed back. "It suits you though. Looks really good."

The air felt heavy between them, charged with something unnameable. Seeing Kenma at the station, finding him attractive for those brief moments, had been a strange glitch in the rhythm of their friendship. Kuroo let his eyes roam over Kenma's face, letting himself really _see_ his friend. Kenma's lips parted slightly with a soft noise as though he wanted to speak, but he just continued to watch Kuroo silently, his eyes heavy with some unspoken emotion that Kuroo couldn't identify.

Kenma was the first to look away, shaking Kuroo's hand off. "Thanks," he mumbled, looking down at his lap.

Kuroo swallowed. He still felt possessed by the strange electricity in the air between them. He drank the last mouthful of his tea and stared down into the empty cup, digging in his chest for some courage. "Do you want to know a secret?" he asked at last, his voice soft. 

Kenma nodded. "If you want to tell me," he replied quietly. "I want to know things about you too."

Feeling self-conscious, Kuroo hid his smile behind his empty cup. "At the station, I didn't recognize you at first, not at all. I only turned around because...I thought you were a cute stranger."

Kenma stared at him for several seconds, before looking away. "Wow. I don't know whether to be flattered or creeped out."

The words helped to ground him, and Kuroo let out a small sigh before he responded, reaching out to nudge Kenma again with his foot. "Don't lie, we both know you're creeped out."

Kenma snorted. "Yeah." He drank his tea, then fixed Kuroo with a piercing look. "Do you often turn around and stare at strangers?"

Kuroo shook his head. "Not really. I was—I don't know, it was dumb, but I wanted to see if the stranger looked back too. I wanted to have a—a _moment_." He gave Kenma a sheepish grin. "You can laugh."

"A moment," Kenma said, ignoring him. "Like a spark?"

"I guess so, yeah."

"Hmm." Kenma was doing the nose scrunch thing again.

Kuroo laughed awkwardly. "What's that face for?"

"Nothing." Kenma closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. "I'm just tired." 

Kenma didn't own a clock, but Kuroo guessed it must have been almost midnight. Knowing Kenma he'd probably been working flat out all week, and Kuroo felt a pang of guilt for intruding on him so late. He set his empty mug on the coffee table and reached out to rest his hand briefly on Kenma's knee. "I should go. Thanks for the tea."

"Wait," Kenma said, stifling a yawn. He touched Kuroo's hand before he could pull it away. "Before you go—there's something I want to say."

Something in Kuroo's gut squirmed. "Uh—oh?" 

Kenma reached up and rubbed his eyes. "Kuro," he said after a moment, letting his hands fall to his lap. "I'm not good at—I dunno, talking about my feelings. Or other people's feelings."

Kuroo's stomach folded around itself. "But?" he prompted in a whisper.

"But, uh—I'm glad you're getting some help."

Kuroo looked back at Kenma in surprise, and then he glanced quickly off to the side. His ears felt hot. "Ah, yeah, well. It's not a big deal."

"It is," Kenma said firmly. He took an unsteady breath, and when he spoke again his voice was softer. "Hey, uh—you know drinking makes all that stuff worse, right?"

"What stuff?" Kuroo asked, looking at him sharply.

"You know," Kenma huffed. "Feeling shit about yourself, thinking you're a failure—"

"Kenma," Kuroo said, with a laugh that sounded false to his own ears. "Where's all this coming from?"

Kenma looked back at him steadily. Kuroo felt pinned under his gaze, like an animal being looked at through glass, with nowhere to hide. It felt as though Kenma had torn open his chest, pulled aside the skin and muscle to see all the dark things crawling around in there, and Kuroo had to look away.

"Kuro," Kenma said softly, leaning toward him. 

Blinking back the burning in his eyes, Kuroo was surprised to see Kenma reaching out to him. "It's fine," Kuroo said, shaking his head. Kenma retracted his hand. "I'm fine, it's just—"

"Kuro." Kenma's voice was more stern. "You need to let people help you. I know what it's like, okay?"

Kuroo looked up, doubtful. "Yeah?"

"You were there for me," Kenma said in a low voice. "You've always been there for me. Let me do the same."

The words seemed wrong to Kuroo—he _hadn't_ been there, had he? But another part of him recognised what Kenma was saying; he knew that Suga, and Bokuto, and his mom—they'd all been saying the same thing to him for weeks. And all he'd done was push people away. 

Kuroo took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded. "Okay," he said, throwing Kenma a weak smile. "I'll try."

Kenma nodded, and this time when he leaned closer, Kuroo didn't pull away. Although the embrace only lasted a few moments, Kenma's arms around him were firm and reassuring, and Kuroo pulled away feeling far better than he had in days. 

"Thanks, Kenma."

"Mm. Sorry your date didn't work out."

"Me too." He looked across at Kenma with a sly grin. "Want me to tuck you in, Kenchan?"

"Ugh," Kenma groaned. "You always ruin it. Get out."

"Don't forget to brush your teeth," Kuroo said, laughing as Kenma hustled him toward the door. "No using your phone in bed either, it makes it harder to sleep!"

Kenma gave him a shove out into the hallway and kicked his shoes after him. "Good _night_ , Kuro," he said, but he was smiling as he shut the door between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BYE FUJIKAGE  
> how little we knew you :')


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"You're liking the new place?"_
> 
> _Kuroo nodded. "It's basically perfect. A little far from school, but Kenma is right around the corner."_
> 
> _"You've been over then?"_
> 
> _"Just once," he said, shrugging. "He comes over a lot though, mostly to see Baron."_
> 
> _"Mm," his mother mused. "He called the other day."_
> 
> _Kuroo glanced up at her. "Weird, Baron usually prefers to text."_
> 
> _"That's surprising for someone with no opposable thumbs."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd we're back! :3 thank you all so much for sticking with me for so long. As you may imagine, a story like this isn't always easy to write, but I take the muse when I can get it, and we're on the home stretch now! ilu all :D

"You seem better."

Kuroo looked up from his food and frowned. His mother had invited him out to their favourite restaurant, the same downmarket place they'd visited together a hundred times, and had been run by the same family since Kuroo was a little kid. She was watching him across the table, midway through slurping some noodles from her bowl.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, realising as he said it that he didn't feel as defensive as usual. The same observation a few months earlier would've sent him into a spiral of confusion and anger, whereas he now felt merely puzzled.

His mother finished her mouthful and then gestured toward him with her chopsticks. "Something's different," she said, running an appraising eye over him. "Did you get a haircut?"

"Is that a hint?"

His mother laughed. "It wasn't supposed to be." She took another mouthful of her food, then spoke while still chewing. "You're liking the new place?"

Kuroo nodded. "It's basically perfect. A little far from school, but Kenma is right around the corner."

"You've been over then?"

"Just once," he said, shrugging. "He comes over a lot though, mostly to see Baron."

"Mm," his mother mused. "He called the other day."

Kuroo glanced up at her. "Weird, Baron usually prefers to text."

"That's surprising for someone with no opposable thumbs."

"Yeah, I thought so."

She rolled her eyes at him. " _Anyway_. I know we normally do a just-us thing for my birthday, but why don't you invite Kenma this year?"

"Oh, really? You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not!" she said, a little too loudly. Kuroo made a mental note to stop her from ordering another drink. "I haven't seen him in far too long, I need to make sure you're looking after him properly."

Kuroo snorted. "He really doesn't need looking after."

"Indulge an old woman, Tetsurou," she said, winking at him. 

"Yeah, yeah. I can ask."

When they had finished their meals, his mother sat back in her chair, sighing happily and patting her stomach. "I hope this place never closes down."

"Mm," Kuroo hummed, only half paying attention. Kenma had texted him from his office, and Kuroo was midway through scolding him for working late when his mother snapped her fingers near his ear. "What?" he said, snappish. 

"I was talking to you," she said, laughing. She glanced at his phone, still in his hand. "Is that him?" Kuroo nodded, and her face relaxed into a warm smile. "Things are good between you two now?"

"Yeah of course," Kuroo said, wrinkling his nose. Even as he said it, he couldn't help remembering the strange atmosphere between them on Friday night. He'd written it off as a side effect of the awkwardness with Fujikage. Still, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about Kenma's confession about the party at the beach, or the way Kenma had leaned into him as Kuroo touched his hair. 

"Tetsurou?"

"Things are fine, Mom," he said, forcing a smile through his confusion. "Same as ever."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. What about that date you had, did that go anywhere?"

Kuroo made a face. "It was...fine. I, uh—actually need to call it quits though." 

She frowned. "I'm sorry it didn't work out. But you should call as soon as possible. Don't leave them waiting."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he sighed, looking away. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Is there something you'd rather talk about instead?"

Kuroo thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. "Not really." He could feel her eyes resting on him, and he gathered his courage up before adding, "I actually—I saw a doctor a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh yeah?"

Shifting awkwardly in his seat, Kuroo reached up to ruffle the hair on the back of his head. "Well, yeah. Things...things have been kinda—" He sighed and dropped his hand to his lap again. "You know."

"I do," she said softly. She reached out across the table, laying her hand palm up. "I won't make you talk about it if you don't want to, but—I'm really relieved to hear that you're getting some help."

Kuroo hesitated before putting his hand into hers. "Yeah, well. I think Kenma would've disowned me again if I hadn't done something." He glanced up at her after a moment. "You were really worried?"

His mother looked surprised. "Of course I was. I always worry about you."

Kuroo snorted. "You've got a funny way of showing it," he said, but he regretted the words instantly. "Sorry. I—didn't really mean it like that."

"I know what you meant," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. "You would never have flourished with an overbearing parent. I worry as much as the next mother, but you're intelligent and self-sufficient, and I...well, I suppose I never wanted to make you feel as if you weren't."

"I guess that makes sense," Kuroo said, giving her a half smile. "For what it's worth, you're a pretty great parent."

She smiled at him. "For what it's worth, you're a pretty amazing son."

 

 

Fujikage had sent him two texts on Saturday after their slightly disastrous date, and to his great shame, Kuroo had yet to read them. The knowledge of them sitting there, waiting for a response, made guilt gnaw at him slowly, until on Monday afternoon he finally screwed up his courage and called.

 _"Hey, Kuroo,"_ Fujikage said warmly. _"This is unexpected."_

"Yeah," Kuroo said, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Sorry to call out of the blue."

 _"It's fine,"_ Fujikage said, laughing a little. _"It's nice to hear your voice. Did you have a good weekend?"_

Guilt tore at Kuroo's chest. "I actually—I need to talk to you about something."

The cheer in Fujikage's voice dissipated instantly. _"Oh, okay then."_

Kuroo closed his eyes. He'd never really broken up with anyone before, and a part of him felt as though he was making a huge mistake, that he should just swallow his misgivings and try harder. But in his head he heard Yaku's voice, telling him off for giving in to things he didn't really want. 

"It—was really great to meet you," he ventured. "And I enjoyed our dates a lot—"

 _"Ah,"_ Fujikage said. _"So it's that kind of call."_

"I'm sorry," Kuroo said, the tear in his chest yawning wide. "I think you're a genuinely great guy, which can't be said of that many people, and—"

 _"Kuroo, it's okay,"_ Fujikage said, sighing. _"We had, what, four dates? Don't beat yourself up about it."_

Kuroo took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah. I just—I guess we didn't really click."

 _"I guess not,"_ Fujikage agreed, then he laughed. _"I shouldn't have told you I hate cats."_

"Yeah." Kuroo grinned. "Dealbreaker," he said warmly.

 _"I knew it."_ Fujikage sighed again. _"I dunno if I even want the answer to this—you don't have to tell me, but did you—uh, are you not attracted to me?"_

Kuroo winced. "No, no, that's not—it's not about you."

Fujikage snorted. _"Oh yeah?"_

Kuroo ran his hand over his face. He couldn't tell Fujikage he was a bad kisser. If Kuroo had liked him more, he wouldn't have cared about that. Instead, he grasped for the first thing that came into his head. 

"There's someone else."

_"Oh."_

"We're not—I mean, nothing has happened between us, I'm not that kind of jerk, but I—I think I like someone else. I'm sorry."

 _"Hey, you like who you like,"_ Fujikage said in a cavalier voice, obviously trying to sound cheerful. _"You should tell him how you feel."_

Again, Kuroo thought of the way Kenma had leaned into him, that easy intimacy he'd missed since Akina left him. He wished he could feel that again with someone. 

"Yeah," Kuroo said in a noncommittal voice. "Maybe."

 _"Okay, well, I'd better go,"_ Fujikage said awkwardly. _"But—thanks, for taking the trouble to call me. You're an amazing person, Kuroo. I hope things work out."_

"Yeah, you too."

They ended the call, and Kuroo turned to stare out of the window. It was almost June, and the sky was clear. He remembered his promise to take Kenma to the zoo, and thought about asking if he wanted to go that weekend. Most of the time they spent together was at Kuroo's apartment, but sometimes they went to the cafe down the street. They had been to the cinema once, and Kenma had dragged Kuroo into the arcade afterward, although it backfired when Kuroo spotted two of his students playing a shooting game. Overall, Kuroo thought they would both benefit from actually going outside.

Before he could open his phone again, it vibrated in his hands with a text from Kenma.

_work sucks today_   
_how about you_

Kuroo grinned.

_I always suck, for a price ;D_

_gross_   
_what happened to your boyfriend_

Without realising until he'd done it, Kuroo found himself glancing over his shoulder, making sure nobody could read his messages. 

_We actually just broke up_ , he wrote back. _I think that's the first time in my life I did the dumping_.

 _sounds about right,_ Kenma replied. 

There was a knock on the door, and his mother looked into the staff room. 

"Mom, hey," Kuroo said, turning his phone face down on the table as she walked over to him. "Why the knock?" he asked, glancing around at the empty room.

She grinned and reached out to ruffle his hair. "You looked like you were deep in thought," she said, glancing at his phone. "Everything okay?"

Kuroo nodded. "Just talking to Kenma."

"Ah," she said, with a knowing smile. "Then I'll let you get back to him."

"It's just Kenma," Kuroo said, chuckling. "He won't care."

She gave him a significant look. "Did you ask him yet?"

"About—?"

"Tetsurou!" she said in mock offence. "My birthday, remember? Or did you change your mind?"

Kuroo winced, slouching down in his seat. "Sorry, I—I kinda forgot. I think my new meds are making me absent-minded."

"Mm." She pulled out the chair beside him and sat down. "Is that a common side effect?" 

"I guess," he said, shrugging. "But I'm sleeping better."

"That's good."

His phone buzzed on the table, and his mother glanced at it with a smile. "I'll leave you two alone," she said, getting to her feet. "See you later?"

Kuroo nodded absently, watching her go and then turning to look out at the clear skies again. It was several minutes before he remembered to check his phone, finding that Kenma had responded, tempering his dismissive words from before.

_I'm sorry though_   
_break ups suck_

Kuroo smiled faintly. 

_Nah, don't be,_ he wrote back. _No spark._

Kuroo hesitated before typing the next message. _I told him I like someone else_

Kenma's reply didn't reply immediately, but Kuroo could see that he was typing. He frowned and stared at his phone, waiting to see what Kenma would say. Would he be serious or dismissive? Kuroo's heart beat heavy in his throat. Finally, several minutes later, Kenma replied with just two words.

_do you?_

Kuroo swallowed. His hands were clammy, and he released his phone one hand at a time so that he could wipe his palms on his trousers. _I don't know_ , he wrote eventually. _Maybe_.

Although Kuroo waited, Kenma didn't reply after that, and eventually his free period ended and he had to hurry back to his classroom for his last class of the day. His phone felt heavy in his pocket for the rest of the afternoon, moreso as it continued to remain silent, and he was relieved when he was finally able to go home and bury himself in his work while Baron curled up beside him.

 

 

Kenma finally texted him again a few days later. 

_hey, how goes_

Kuroo and Bokuto were catching up over a drink in a bar near Bokuto’s apartment. It was a traditional place, dark and dingy, and full of old men smoking and talking loudly, but Bokuto insisted that the food there was the best he’d tasted outside of his mother’s cooking. 

"That Kenma?"

Kuroo nodded, transferring his chopsticks to his other hand while he typed out a response.

_Every time I jerk off, Baron sits on the bed and stares at me while purring really loudly_

_forget I asked_

Kuroo snickered.

"What? What's he saying?" Bokuto asked, leaning over. 

"I made him mad."

 _Not even a little bit of sympathy?_ Kuroo wrote back. _I might as well be talking to Yaku_

_I wish you were_

“I think Akaashi is mad at me," Bokuto said in a mournful voice.

Kuroo looked up from texting. “Why would he be mad at you?” he asked, watching with suspicion as Bokuto eyed the last strip of meat on one of the plates between them. “Don’t even think about it,” he added, reaching out and tugging the plate toward his own side of the table. “You already ate enough to feed three people.”

“Tettsun!” Bokuto whined, pouting at him. “I’m a growing boy.”

Kuroo snorted. “If you grow any more you’ll be too heavy to jump. Just think what an extra five kilograms is gonna do to your vertical.”

“Alright, alright,” Bokuto grumbled, sitting back in his seat. “You sound like my nutritionist, jeez.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

Bokuto continued to pout, but after a moment his expression cleared and he sat up. “Oh! Speaking of food, you wanna come over this weekend? You and Kenma?”

“Kenma?” Kuroo asked, giving him a suspicious glance as he grabbed the last slice of meat for himself. 

“Yeah!” Bokuto said, grinning. “It’s been so long! I wanna see him again, and Akaashi does too.”

Kuroo finished chewing and licked some sauce from the corner of his mouth. “I thought you said Akaashi was mad at you.”

“Oh, yeah,” Bokuto said, wilting slightly, his shoulders sinking. “Well, not really mad, more like—I think he’s mad _for_ me.”

“Yeah?”

Bokuto winced, and glanced around him before replying, as though worried that someone would be listening in. “It’s not really a big deal, there’s just, uh—some friction, with someone on the team.” 

Kuroo reached for his beer. “Why is Akaashi mad about it?”

“Well,” Bokuto said, obviously hedging his answer. “I guess…because this guy kinda—threatened me?”

Kuroo sat up straighter, almost choking on his drink in his surprise. “He what? Threatened you how?”

Bokuto groaned and sank lower in his seat. “It’s not a big deal,” he mumbled. “But I said I didn’t wanna do anything about it, and Akaashi got angry.”

“Kou, hey,” Kuroo said, reaching out. He put his hand on Bokuto’s shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “You know I'm here for you, right?”

Bokuto leaned into him, turning a grateful smile his way. “Thanks, Tettsun.”

“Nah, man,” Kuroo said, returning the smile somewhat sheepishly. “You’re always there when I need you. Only fair I return the favour.”

To his relief, Bokuto started laughing. “Aw, yeah, you know I’ve always got your back. You’re not still lonely, are you?” he asked, accompanying the question with a suggestive eyebrow waggle.

“Actually, I dated someone for a couple of weeks,” Kuroo said, doing his best to sound casual. He still felt a little residual guilt over breaking up with Fujikage, and a busy bar was the last place he wanted to start discussing either his relationship with another man or his brief hookup with Bokuto. “It didn’t work out, but I don't really mind.”

“Sorry to hear it,” Bokuto said, with endearing sincerity. “You’re a catch though, dude. You’ll find someone.”

Kuroo shrugged, eager to shunt the conversation onto a new topic. “So…this weekend?”

Bokuto nodded emphatically. “Saturday night? Akaashi’s cooking, don’t worry.”

"I'll ask him," Kuroo said, pulling out his phone again. "So, did you wanna talk about it?"

"About what?"

Kuroo gave him a _look_. "This asshole on your team."

Bokuto's face did something complicated, and his eyebrows drew in as he frowned. "He _is_ kind of an asshole."

"Yeah?"

Bokuto shrugged. "There's another team we practice with a lot. Like back in the day, with Fukurodani and Nekoma."

"Sounds fun."

"Yeah," Bokuto said, smiling faintly. "There's a guy…I dunno, he's probably not even into dudes. We're just friends."

A faint tug of jealousy made Kuroo's stomach twist, but he shoved it away and pulled on something of a smile. "What's he like?"

Bokuto shrugged. "He's a good guy. He's funny, like you."

Kuroo started laughing. "At least someone appreciates my sense of humour. Kenma's so ungrateful."

"Kenma doesn't bother being mean to people he doesn't like," Bokuto said, sounding unusually wise.

"Yeah," Kuroo said with a fond smile. "You're probably right."

Bokuto shrugged. "So anyway, this jerk on my team, he made some, uh—accusations about me and Hisashi. Threatened to go to Coach over it." He sighed, his face screwing up in annoyance. "It's so stupid, we're not even—I mean I wouldn't anyway, not when it might get in the way of volleyball."

Kuroo sat back, groaning softly. "Yeah, that sucks. I'm really sorry, Kou." Bokuto shrugged again. "So, wait, what does Akaashi want you to do about it?"

"Go to Coach," Bokuto said, making a face. "But—but even if he takes my side, and he's got no reason to—then I'm _out_ , you know? And I don't want that."

"Yeah, I get you." 

They sat in silence for several moments, but eventually Bokuto shook himself and smiled brightly. “Anyway, Saturday, yeah? Did Kenma text back yet?” 

Kuroo obligingly took out his phone to check. “He hasn’t replied yet. I’ll chase him later.”

“Yeah!” Bokuto said, beaming at him. “Or give his number to Akaashi and he’ll guilt him into coming.”

“I’d like to see him try,” Kuroo said, laughing.

Bokuto’s expression sobered. “Dude. Don’t take that bet.”

Kuroo grinned. “Lucky for me I’m not a gambler.”

“You have no idea.”

 

 

It took surprisingly little persuasion to coax Kenma out of his apartment on Saturday night, and the two of them showed up at Bokuto’s apartment more or less on time. Kuroo suggested they stop and pick up some wine on the way, but Kenma had wrinkled his nose and pointed out that Bokuto shouldn’t be drinking in the middle of the season, and Akaashi was too picky for them to choose the right bottle anyway. 

"Are you nervous?" Kuroo asked when they stepped off the train. He leaned closer to peer at Kenma's face. "You look nervous."

Kenma put a hand over his face and pushed him away. " _You_ look nervous. What's wrong?"

Kuroo shrugged. "I dunno. The last time I saw Bokuto and Akaashi together I had a meltdown at their party." He grinned. "What's your excuse."

"I'm not nervous," Kenma snapped. 

"Alright," Kuroo said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Forget I said anything."

"Done."

They walked the rest of the short distance from the station in silence. Kuroo made a couple of attempts at conversion that fell flat, and eventually gave in to the silence that Kenma seemed so keen to maintain. 

"This is Bokuto's building," he said finally when they stopped outside. "I'll buzz him."

"Kuro, wait," Kenma said, catching hold of his sleeve. "Don't—don't leave me on my own."

"With Bokuto and Akaashi?" Kuroo asked, looking at him in surprise. 

Kenma nodded. "And if I say I need to go—for work, or whatever—"

"Keep my big mouth shut?"

Kenma nodded again wordlessly. 

"Wilco," Kuroo said, grinning at him. "Wanna push the buzzer?" Kenma shrugged. "Number seventeen."

Elbowing him to one side, Kenma punched in the number and they waited patiently until they heard Akaashi's voice on the other end, inviting them up. Kuroo pushed open the door and Kenma followed him into the elevator. They didn't speak, but Kuroo put his hand on Kenma's shoulder, and allowed himself a tiny smile when Kenma didn't pull away. 

They knocked on the door to Bokuto's apartment, and Akaashi answered it, greeting them with a nod. 

"Hello, Kuroo, Kenma-kun," he said, stepping aside. "Please come in."

"Is that them, Akaashi?" Bokuto shouted, his voice carrying from further into the apartment. 

They both stepped inside, Kenma pulling the door closed behind them, and slipped off their shoes. 

"It's good to see you again, Kenma," Akaashi said, offering him a small smile. 

Kenma returned it. "Hey, Keiji. Sorry I haven't been around lately."

Akaashi shrugged. "You're here now."

"Aka—ashi!" 

"Come on," Akaashi said, tilting his head in the direction of Bokuto's voice. "I'll get you both a drink. I think you'll need it."

Halfway down the hallway they met Bokuto, who flung himself at Kuroo with a terrifying yell. Kuroo caught him, staggering under the weight, and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. 

"Good to see you too, Kou," he said, glancing at Kenma, who had pressed himself back against the wall. "Got a slightly less exuberant greeting for Kenma?"

"Yeah!" Bokuto said, pulling back with a burst of laughter. "Kenma, hey!"

The corner of Kenma's mouth curled up. "Hello, Koutarou."

Bokuto beamed. "You wanna hug?"

Kenma swallowed, and Kuroo noticed him clenching his fists at his sides.

"Hug later," Kuroo said, grabbing Bokuto's shoulder and steering him toward the kitchen again. "I'm starving."

They all traipsed through to the kitchen, where Akaashi was pulling a bottle of wine out of the fridge. "Koutarou," he said over his shoulder. "You're not drinking, right?"

"I could have _one_ ," Bokuto said in a wheedling tone. 

Akaashi shrugged. "I'm not your mother."

"Yeah!" Bokuto cheered, throwing his arm around Kuroo's shoulders. "Have a drink, Tettsun? You too, Kenma."

From the corner of his eye, Kuroo saw Kenma shake his head. He muttered something about a late night, work to do the following day. Kuroo was relieved when Bokuto and Akaashi accepted his excuses without pressing him. Kenma liked to keep a clear head in unfamiliar situations, and while their friends could never be unfamiliar, enough time had passed for them to forget the rhythm of one another, the same way he and Kenma had at first. 

Kenma remained withdrawn as they sat around the table in Bokuto's living room, listening to him talk about his team members and do impressions of his coach. He didn't mention the team member that had threatened him, but Kuroo found himself watching Akaashi's expression darken the longer Bokuto talked about volleyball. Apparently Kenma noticed too, even if he didn't understand the reason behind it, because when Bokuto was halfway through a story about the team's libero, Kenma suddenly interrupted him.

"Koutarou, I've been wondering. How did Kuroo persuade you to steal Baron back?"

Bokuto lapsed into a surprised silence, but it only lasted a few moments before he burst out laughing. "Oh my god, I almost forgot about that."

"Kenma's very grateful," Kuroo said seriously, reaching over to nudge Kenma's shoulder. "Baron is his new favourite person."

"He has a better sense of humour than you do," Kenma retorted.

Kuroo laughed, and glanced at Bokuto. "See what I put up with?" he said, raising his eyebrow. Bokuto snorted into his shoulder. 

"You're lucky you weren't arrested," Akaashi said, reaching for the bottle of wine and pouring the dregs into his glass. "Do you want another drink, Kuroo? The food should be ready in a minute."

"If you're having one," Kuroo said, leaning back and stretching his arms over his head. He caught Kenma watching him and sent him a curious look, but Kenma only turned his gaze away, apparently inspecting the contents of Bokuto's bookshelf. "Hungry?" Kuroo asked, nudging him again.

"Mm," Kenma hummed in agreement. 

When Akaashi finally served the food with Bokuto's help, the atmosphere shifted. Kenma visibly relaxed, leaning into Kuroo as he talked, teasing Bokuto good-naturedly, getting into a heated discussion with Akaashi about something architecture related that Kuroo could barely follow. Whether he'd been nervous before or just hungry, Kuroo felt something in his chest unknot at the sight of Kenma talking easily and enjoying himself. 

"Are you still in touch with Hinata-kun?" Akaashi asked, turning to Kenma. They had finished eating and fallen into reminiscing about school and friends they had lost touch with.

Kenma's face brightened at the mention of Hinata, and he nodded. "Of course."

"Hey, didn't Yachi say he was visiting soon?" Kuroo asked.

"For his birthday, I think."

"Yacchan!" Bokuto yelled, grinning. "I haven't seen her in ages. Are they a thing yet?"

Kenma frowned. "Why would they be?"

"Aw, come on!" Bokuto said. "They're perfect for each other!"

"Hm," Kenma said, wrinkling his nose. "Just because they're best friends doesn't mean they're meant to be together."

Akaashi made a face that suggested he agreed, his gaze flicking from Bokuto to Kuroo and back again. Something turned over in Kuroo's stomach. He and Bokuto hadn't exactly agreed to keep their hookup a secret, and he shouldn't have been surprised by Bokuto confessing anything to Akaashi of all people, but it still felt strange to think that he might know. His stomach twisted around itself with the knowledge that he probably should have told Kenma by now. He wasn't sure why he hadn't, particularly after their conversation the previous week. 

"I guess, maybe," Bokuto said, sounding unconvinced. 

Kenma looked at him, then turned his piercing gaze on Kuroo. 

Kuroo shrugged. "I think they'd be good together." 

"People can be friends without sleeping together," Kenma said, an edge creeping into his voice.

Kuroo frowned. "Who said anything about sex? Friendship is a good basis for loving someone."

"Don't you think they would know by now if they liked each other that way?"

"Maybe something's changed," Kuroo said, leaning closer. "Maybe they see each other differently."

Kenma's throat bobbed. "Maybe they do. But isn't it better for things to stay the way they are? What if they broke up?"

"What if they didn't?" Kuroo shot back.

"Everyone breaks up."

"Alright, Captain Cynicism."

Kenma rolled his eyes. "I'm not cynical, I'm realistic."

"The two aren't mutually exclusive."

Bokuto cleared his throat. "Woah, okay kids," he said with forced cheer. "Let's agree to disagree, yeah?"

Kenma shrugged and turned away, pulling out his phone in clear dismissal. 

"Yeah, fine," Kuroo said, giving Bokuto a weak smile. "When's your next game, Kou?"

They made idle conversation for a little longer, but the atmosphere didn't recover, a strange tension lingering over them all. Eventually Kenma made excuses to leave, and nobody protested when Kuroo offered to join him. They said a subdued farewell, and then the two of them began to walk to the station, a tense silence surrounding them. 

"Hey," Kuroo said at last while they waited for their train. "Are you angry with me?"

Kenma glanced sidelong at him. "Why would I be angry?"

"I dunno," Kuroo said, scuffing his toe against the ground. "You were pretty adamant about Hinata and Yacchan."

"Yeah, well," Kenma muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I just don't think you should try and force something that isn't there."

Kuroo's throat was tight. He swallowed with difficulty. "Can we stop pretending we're talking about Hinata?"

Kenma huffed, but didn't respond.

"Kenma?"

"Kuro," Kenma said, a little too loudly. He sounded tired and annoyed, his voice flat. He heaved a sigh, shoulders rising and falling sharply. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"Nothing," Kuroo said, shrugging. "Anything, I don't know."

Kenma groaned softly. "You're asking the wrong person."

Kuroo wanted to tear his hair out. He closed his fingers tightly around his phone and keys in the pockets of his jeans. Some unknown urge made him want to yank them out and throw them down onto the tracks, where they would be irretrievable. He clenched his fingers more tightly to stop himself from giving in to it. 

"I thought," he began, his voice oddly stiff. "After last week, what we talked about—"

"Kuro," Kenma said more softly. He swallowed again, staring out at the opposite platform, his eyes shining in the florescent light. "Don't."

"Oh," Kuroo said, turning his eyes forward too. Despite all he'd eaten, his stomach felt hollow. Kenma, still standing beside him, seemed to be a hundred kilometres away. Kuroo swallowed down the sick feeling in the back of his throat and nodded. "Okay then."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _For several days after the meal at Bokuto's apartment, Kuroo didn't text Kenma. He went to work, and marked worksheets, and tried to find the energy to eat something more substantial than a packet of instant noodles or a few carrot slices for his dinner._
> 
> _On Wednesday he walked to the convenience store for another six pack of beer, and flinched when he saw someone that looked like Kenma on the way home. He froze for several seconds before realising the shoulder length dyed hair couldn't possibly belong to Kenma, and turned away to trudge back to his apartment._
> 
> _On a whim he took out his phone. Kenma still hadn't texted him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *SETS MYSELF ON FIRE*
> 
> it's a year to the day since I started posting this. happy anniversary, little fic! 
> 
>  
> 
> my thanks go once again to mousecat, pussycat-scribbles and helwolves for helping out and listening to me complain endlessly about this chapter :')

For several days after the meal at Bokuto's apartment, Kuroo didn't text Kenma. He went to work, and marked worksheets, and tried to find the energy to eat something more substantial than a packet of instant noodles or a few carrot slices for his dinner. 

On Wednesday he walked to the convenience store for another six pack of beer, and flinched when he saw someone that looked like Kenma on the way home. He froze for several seconds before realising the shoulder length dyed hair couldn't possibly belong to Kenma, and turned away to trudge back to his apartment.

On a whim he took out his phone. Kenma still hadn't texted him.

The following day started with rain, and only worsened into Friday. Kuroo scrolled idly through his emails while he stood waiting for his train to arrive on Friday morning. He had several notifications on the dating app he'd met Fujikage through. Frowning, he deleted them without reading them. The grim weather made him eager for summer to arrive. Already he was tired from the demands of his job, and he thought with frustration of how much more easily he had juggled work and friends and a relationship just a few years earlier. It seemed impossible now to do all the things he needed to do in any given day. 

At lunchtime, feeling smothered, he ate his lunch in his classroom—disregarding his own strict rule forbidding food in the lab—then sought out somewhere to hide, away from his students and the well meaning inquiries of the other staff. He thought about texting Kenma as he stood staring out at the relentless weather. When they were kids, Kenma would get up and watch the weather report with his dad in the morning, and if rain was predicted, nothing short of an earthquake would convince him to set foot outside, no matter that there were blue skies overhead. 

Kuroo took out his phone. Still nothing.

"Tetsurou."

Kuroo shuddered. "Mom," he said, turning to face her. Although most of the students were huddled inside because of the heavy rain, Kuroo had managed to find a quiet spot on the third floor hallway. It connected the main building to the activities block, but the third floor of the activities building was currently being renovated, so the passageway wasn't in use. Students liked to hide out in there to exchange gossip or put forth their confessions, but one glimpse of a teacher had them scurrying away to tell their secrets somewhere else.

"Hiding from someone?" His mother asked, coming over and putting her arm around him. 

Kuroo shook his head. "Just thinking."

"Looks painful."

"Mm." 

She leaned her head on his shoulder, and for a few minutes they stood together in silence, watching rain run down the window. The world beyond was mostly a blur of dull colours, and the sounds of students enjoying their break was drowned out by the rain beating on the roof of the passageway. 

"I can see why you like it in here," his mother said at last, lifting her head from his shoulder. She patted his arm. "Did you ask Kenma about Wednesday?" 

Kuroo blinked at her. "Wednesday?" 

She looked at him steadily. "My birthday?" 

Kuroo groaned. "Right."

"You forgot," she said, sounding amused rather than annoyed. "It's alright, I can ask him—"

"No," Kuroo said quickly. "Let's just—let's make it just the two of us."

She frowned. "Is there some reason you don't want to invite him?"

Kuroo shrugged and went back to staring out of the window. "It's nothing."

"If it's nothing then I'll invite him."

Kuroo bit his cheek hard. "I don't want to see him."

"Why on earth not?"

"Just—just because," he snapped. "What does it matter? Nothing's changed between us." He sighed and thumped his fist against the windowsill. "Nothing ever changes."

"Tetsurou," his mother said, her voice quiet but firm. "Did something happen—"

" _No_ ," Kuroo said angrily. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"What're you getting angry for? It's just a question."

"I'm not!" he said, not realising the volume of his voice until he'd said it. "I don't know," he added more sheepishly, shoulders sagging. "I thought things were getting better, but they're just as much of a mess as before. I made a total ass of myself in front of him last week, and Bokuto and Akaashi. And Yaku still isn't speaking to me either."

For a few moments his mother didn't respond, and when she did it was to reach up and cuff him on the back of the head. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but Kuroo yelped and ducked away from her anyway. 

"What was that for?" he protested, clutching the back of his head. 

"You can't keep burning bridges, Tetsurou," she told him crossly.

He scowled at her. "I know that!" 

"Do you?" she snapped. "One of these days you're going to catch fire yourself, and nobody will be able to get to you."

Kuroo made a face. "Your analogy needs work," he murmured, looking away. 

The school bell rang before his mother could reply, and she sighed at him heavily. "Wednesday, Tetsurou," she said, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "Don't forget."

Kuroo grimaced at her retreating back. "Yeah. See you then."

 

 

Kuroo was woken early on Saturday morning by the sound of his apartment buzzer. After a minute of intermittent buzzing, Baron climbed up on his chest and started buffing him in the face with one paw in protest at the noise. 

"Alright, alright," Kuroo grumbled, clambering reluctantly out of bed. His joints groaned as he moved, and he almost tripped over the tangle of his sheets in his hurry to get to the intercom. When he reached it, he answered with a snarl. "Yeah?"

"Tettsun!" It was Bokuto, loud voice making the intercom crackle. "You're alive! Are you okay?"

Kuroo groaned. "Kou? What the hell, it's barely seven."

Bokuto wasn't listening, already talking over him in his excitement. "What's going on? We've been calling you, dude."

Kuroo thought of his phone, which he hadn't bothered to charge since Thursday. 

"Are you gonna let me in or not?"

Kuroo looked down at himself, wincing at the stained t-shirt he'd slept in, and then glanced around at his messy apartment. "Alright," he sighed.

While he waited for Bokuto, Kuroo pulled on a cardigan and some sweatpants, and set down some food for Baron, who was complaining loudly. There was a brisk knock on the door moments later, and he opened it to a breathless, worried-looking Bokuto.

"Hey, Kou. You take the stairs?"

"Tettsun—!" Bokuto surged forward and flung his arms around Kuroo's chest, hugging him tightly. "Shit, man, I was worried about you."

"Kou," Kuroo choked, patting Bokuto's waist. "Ease up—can't breathe—"

"Sorry, sorry," Bokuto said, releasing him quickly. He stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him. "Seriously though, you okay? Did you lose your phone? Somethin' happen?"

"Woah, woah," Kuroo said in a weary voice, holding up his hands. "I'm _fine_. Aside from being woken up at dawn on my day off…"

Bokuto rolled his eyes and made a dismissive gesture with his hands. "Yeah, yeah. I wouldn't have had to come wake you up if you'd just texted someone back. Me and Akaashi were so worried. Suga and Akinori too—"

Kuroo raised an eyebrow. "Because I didn't text you for a week?"

"Even Kenma texted back!" Bokuto protested. 

Kuroo's shoulders tensed. "Great," he said, turning away. "He okay?"

Bokuto made a frustrated sound. "What's going on with you two?"

"Ask Kenma," Kuroo said calmly. "You want a drink or anything?"

Bokuto ignored his question. "Akaashi tried that," he said, following Kuroo into the kitchen. "Kenma just said 'nothing'."

Kuroo allowed himself a bitter laugh. "He's not wrong."

Bokuto folded his arms. "Have you told him how you feel about him?"

Kuroo tensed again. After their performance the other night, he shouldn't have been surprised by the question, but being confronted with something he'd barely acknowledged to himself made his stomach twist, and heat rushed to his face. 

"That's not—" he began, and cut himself off angrily. "There's no point. You were there, Kenma made it clear how _he_ feels."

"Tettsun—"

"Telling him would just—annoy him or something." Kuroo sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Everything felt too much: Bokuto's presence in his apartment, the untidy stacks of workbooks and used takeaway cartons, Baron mewing pitifully. "At this rate," Kuroo said, trying to stay calm, "I just—I need to hold onto being his friend. I can't lose that as well."

Bokuto was shaking his head. "Tettsun, listen—" he said, reaching out.

The promise of Bokuto's touch made some panicked fury rise in Kuroo's chest. "Just stop!" he shouted, moving away. His own voice surprised him, and he lowered it before continuing. "Stop it, Koutarou. I know you mean well, but this isn't something you can just kiss and make better."

For several moments Bokuto didn't reply. He looked as though he was trying to compose himself, but Kuroo didn't miss the way his bottom lip quivered before he managed to find a response. "Okay," he said weakly. Then, rallying, "Okay! Hey, you wanna go for a run with me?"

Kuroo stared at him. "What?"

Bokuto touched his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. His hands opened and then closed into fists at his sides. "Or—or we could get breakfast." He chanced a half smile. "You still look like you need feeding up."

Kuroo folded his arms protectively around himself. "I'm not hungry, thanks."

"I'm trying here, dude," Bokuto sighed.

"I don't know what you want from me!"

Bokuto made a frustrated sound. "Anything! You're so—" He gestured helplessly. "You're just like a big long nothing where my friend is supposed you be." He spread his hands then, gesturing around them. "The Kuroo I know doesn't starve himself, or leave trash on the floor for weeks instead of taking it out, and he definitely doesn't give up on Kenma before he's even tried—"

"Shut up," Kuroo said, furious tears burning his eyes. He threw the box of tea he was holding onto the counter and slammed his palms down onto the edge. "Just—just shut up, why the fuck would you say that to me?"

"Tettsun, I—" Bokuto's voice cracked. "I just want to help you."

"No," Kuroo spat, his voice thick. "You just—want me to be some happy, perfect version of me. S-someone you can just—just h-have a g-good time with, and then—"

"That's not what happened," Bokuto said, but his voice was quiet and shaky. "Tetsurou, you—you know I wouldn't."

Kuroo felt sick, and he willed himself to stop—stop crying, stop shouting, but he couldn't seem to turn it off. Another sob choked him, the tears beginning to roll down his cheeks in earnest, but when Bokuto reached out for him again, Kuroo slapped his hand away. 

Bokuto's eyes widened, and for a moment Kuroo thought he would turn and leave. "Tettsun, please," he murmured instead, voice weak.

"I—hn, I—don't know h-how to be better," Kuroo said in a shaky voice. 

"Tetsurou," Bokuto said, looking frantic now, tears gathering in his own eyes. "Don't push me away."

Kuroo shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself again. "You sh-should just go." 

"I'm not leaving you alone like this."

Kuroo sagged against the counter. "I'm such a fuck up."

"No, no," Bokuto said, coming closer. 

This time Kuroo didn't put up a fight when Bokuto reached out to hold him, instead dropping his head onto Bokuto's shoulder and inhaling an unsteady breath. Bokuto held him tightly, not seeming to mind that Kuroo was soaking the shoulder of his t-shirt. 

After a few minutes, Baron started to wind around their legs, miaowing insistently, and Bokuto released Kuroo with a soft huff of laughter. 

"Is he hungry?"

Kuroo shook his head, and wiped his face on the sleeve of his cardigan. "He's worried about me," he said thickly, and bent to scoop up the cat, burying his face in Baron's thick fur.

"How can you tell what he wants?" Bokuto asked, reaching out one tentative hand to scratch Baron behind his ear. 

Kuroo shrugged with one shoulder. Baron was purring loudly, pushing against Bokuto's hand. "Sorry," Kuroo mumbled, eyes lowered. "For making you worry."

Bokuto laughed again. "Is that to me or the cat? Either way, we forgive you."

Kuroo's eyes threatened to spill over again. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head. "I should take a shower."

"Yeah?"

"I can't go out to eat looking like this," Kuroo said, attempting a smile. 

Bokuto's grin lit the room. "Alright! You go take a shower, I'll take out this trash."

"What? No, Kou, you don't have to—"

"Hey, who helped me out when I broke my arm?" Bokuto said sternly. 

"That was different," Kuroo mumbled.

Bokuto shook his head. "Nope. Being depr—feeling shitty like this, it's like having arthritis, or some other kinda disability that makes it hard to do stuff."

"Yeah?" Kuroo asked with a humorless smirk. "Where'd you hear that?" 

"From Suga," Bokuto said, already turning away to pick up the bags of trash that Kuroo had sorted and then run out of energy before he could take them downstairs. He must have seen something in Kuroo's face because he added, "Don't get hung up on it. We weren't talking about you."

One day, Kuroo thought, he would stop being surprised by the way Bokuto could read him like a book sometimes. He was used to Kenma seeing all his cracks and insecurities—analysing people was what he excelled at—but Bokuto ran on instinct alone, and sometimes he had an uncanny knack of seeing straight into the heart of you without even realising it. 

"I'm—gonna shower," Kuroo said, still clutching Baron to his chest like a lifeline. His eyes wandered over the stack of unwashed dishes and he winced. He didn't know how he'd even made so much mess when he'd mostly been eating takeaway snacks from the convenience store. "I'll clean the rest up later."

"I'll help, dude," Bokuto said, all cheer and smiles again now. 

A hot, sick feeling flooded him. Kuroo hung his head, listening to Baron's heavy purr. Worse than someone else seeing the squalor he'd descended into was them offering to clean up his mess. "Don't do that," he mumbled. "I don't deserve it."

"Huh?"

Kuroo bit his lip. "You don't need to clean up after me, I'm not a baby."

Bokuto looked annoyed finally. "There's nothing wrong with needing help," he said, exasperated. "Remember the broken arm? Everyone needs help sometimes."

"I haven't broken anything."

"Just take a shower, would you?" Bokuto said, eyes pleading with him. 

Kuroo shrugged. "Fine."

It seemed to take him longer than usual to get clean and dressed, and when Kuroo finally staggered out of his room it was to find Bokuto scrubbing the kitchen counters with a ragged cloth, while Baron batted a jingly ball around his feet. The bags of trash in the corner of the kitchen were gone, and with them the cloying stench of decay had lessened to a mere tickle at the back of his nose. In the living room, Bokuto had cleared away the takeout containers, though he'd left the untidy stacks of workbooks and papers untouched. 

"Thanks," Kuroo said awkwardly. "For this."

"No problem!" Bokuto said, looking up from his scrubbing with a grin. "Hey, you look nice."

Kuroo looked away. "I'm gonna find my wallet. You wanna go?"

"Nearly done!"

Kuroo gritted his teeth. "I can finish it later. Come on, let's go."

 

 

Wednesday came around far too quickly, but Kuroo felt a little better at the prospect of spending the evening with his mother. For all that they drove each other crazy sometimes, she understood him better than almost anyone. It wasn't until he walked down to meet her at her car outside of school that he realised he hadn't bought her a present. 

"Well?" she said, when he walked up to her in silence.

"Mom—"

"Do I have to wish myself a happy birthday?" she asked, laughing as she reached for him.

Kuroo pulled her into a hug. "Happy birthday," he said with forced cheer. "How was work?"

"Oh, same as ever," she said, waving her hand dismissively as she released him. "What do you feel like eating? I think I'm in the mood for Thai."

"Sounds good," Kuroo said, making an effort to smile. "Sorry, I—I've left your present at home."

She looked over at him, eyes narrowing in shrewd consideration. "Are you sure about that, sweetheart? It's okay if you forgot."

Kuroo grimaced and looked away. "I'm really sorry, this week has just been—"

"It's fine," she said, laughing again. "I've had plenty of birthdays, Tetsurou. It's just a day."

"Yeah," Kuroo said. He couldn't help thinking of his last birthday. Akina had been working late. Kenma hadn't texted him. 

His mother made most of the conversation as she drove them home, and let them into the apartment. She remarked on his reticence while Kuroo was taking off his shoes, but there was concern in her voice rather than annoyance, so Kuroo shrugged it off and did his best to talk about his students, and Bokuto, and studiously avoided letting the conversation come close to Kenma. His mother could clearly tell that he was struggling, because once they'd placed their takeaway order, she switched on the TV and put her feet in his lap, and they stayed there for a couple of episodes of some Korean soap opera until their food arrived.

"I'm going to make a coffee," she said eventually, getting up from the couch. "Anything for you?"

Kuroo shook his head, eyes on the TV. He never watched TV at home, and the only news he really kept up with was science news and podcasts. Even those he'd been neglecting lately. He listened with half an ear as his mother got up to fill the electric kettle. The takeaway food they'd ordered had arrived ten minutes earlier, and his mother had insisted on putting it in the oven to heat up again before they ate it.

"Mom," Kuroo called out when he heard the kettle starting to steam, and the sound of mugs being moved around in the cupboard. "Can we eat yet? I'm dying." 

She hummed thoughtfully. "Not yet, give him a little longer."

"Give who—" Kuroo began, and then froze as a horrible awareness crept over him. "You didn't."

"Didn't what?"

Kuroo groaned. "Mom." He turned to face her slowly. "Did you invite Kenma?"

She shrugged, then looked over at him with a challenge in her eye. "Is there some reason I shouldn't?"

"Yes!" Kuroo said loudly, sitting up straighter. The sound of the kettle began to build, a heavy exhalation as it started to steam, and Kuroo raised his voice to be heard over the sound. "Mom, I—I specifically told you I didn't want to ask him."

"I remember," she said steadily. "But unless you can give me a good reason—"

"Because I said so," Kuroo said, his voice cracking as his frustration mounted. "What do you—I mean, why isn't that enough? You think I'm just being petty or stupid about this?"

She turned to face him. The kettle rattled faintly on its plastic base. "Aren't you?"

Kuroo leapt up from his seat. "He's the one that keeps pulling away from me," he said, desperation leaking into his tone. He clenched his fists at his sides. "What's the point," Kuroo went on, a sick feeling welling in his throat, "if he won't be honest with me?"

"Honest about what?" she pressed.

"About anything!" Kuroo shouted. "About—about what happened between us, about what's happening now."

His mother sighed. "Tetsurou," she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. Behind her, the kettle clicked, and she turned to lift it up and pour water into a mug. He watched the strain of the muscles in her arm as she lifted the kettle. Again, he was struck by how much older and smaller she seemed compared to his memories of her. She was stronger than she looked, but despite her active lifestyle it was clear that age was beginning to tug at her coattails. Finally she turned to him again, clutching the mug between her hands. "If there are things Kenma isn't telling you...I'm sure he has his reasons."

"He's my best friend," Kuroo said weakly, voice crumbling. 

"I know, sweetheart."

"I—I tell him everything," Kuroo murmured. "Every—every horrible, stupid, embarrassing thing. Why would he—"

"Not everyone is the same, Tetsurou," she said with some reproach. Her mouth was a miserable twisted line. "Kenma has never been as good at sharing things about himself as you. Maybe he just needs—"

"Time?" Kuroo interrupted in a snarl. She whether. "And three years wasn't enough time?" He turned away, shaking his head. "I can't believe you asked him here."

She let out a frustrated huff. "I'm trying to help. And maybe I _want_ to see my adopted son on my birthday," she said crossly, slamming the mug down hard enough to make coffee slop over the lip onto the counter. "Maybe not everything is about _you_."

Kuroo flinched. "No, I—"

"Sit down," she sighed. "Let's eat. I don't think he's going to show anyway."

Kuroo swallowed hard. His insides felt like they'd been pulled out and put back wrong. "I'm not hungry."

"A minute ago you were starving to death," she snapped. 

"I'm not," Kuroo said, shaking his head. "I—I should go home, I have—marking, and—"

His mother's face crumpled. "Tetsurou."

"—I have a lot to do."

"Fine," she muttered, turning away. She opened another cupboard and started rooting through it. "Take some food home with you, you need to eat something."

"I said I'm not hungry," Kuroo said in a testy voice. 

His mother whirled on him. "And I said you're taking it with you," she snapped. 

Kuroo winced. "Mom—"

She ignored him, turning back to take the plates of takeaway food out of the oven. "Are you going or not?" she asked, already spooning noodles and fish into a plastic tub. 

Kuroo deflated. "Yeah," he muttered, looking down at his feet. 

Minutes later, she was bundling him out of the apartment, pushing the box of food into his arms as she herded him out into the evening sunlight. She wished him a brisk goodbye, then closed the door in his face.

A cramp started in his gut as he walked down the stairs of their apartment block. It was probably hunger, but Kuroo felt too sick and miserable to consider eating. By the time he'd reached the convenience store a few blocks away, the pain radiated throughout his chest, strangling him slowly, and he paused outside the store to catch his breath. He felt like crying, only there were no tears, but his throat was tight and his eyes burned with the urge to scream and sob. Pushing away from the wall at last, he noticed that the convenience store still had a display in the windows from Golden week, even though it was already June. Kuroo stepped inside, wincing at the noisy bell over the door that made his thoughts jangle around. 

"Good evening—oh, Kuroo!" 

Kuroo winced. He'd forgotten about Nagase, the store owner he'd gone to school with. "Hey," he said, resisting the urge to scrub at his dry eyes with his sleeve.

"Haven't seen you recently," Nagase said, leaning against the counter, obviously settling in for a conversation.

"I moved into the city," Kuroo said. "I have to get going, it's my Mom's birthday."

"Oh!" Nagase beamed. "It was my wife's birthday yesterday. Wish her a happy birthday from me, won't you? Your mom was my favourite teacher in middle school."

Kuroo nodded. "Sure."

"Last minute present?"

"Huh?"

"What did you come in for?" Nagase prompted, still grinning at him. 

Kuroo blinked. His skin was too tight. He wanted to tear it off. "Uh, no. Something to drink," he said, glancing around for inspiration. "Wine?"

"Good choice!" Nagase said, crossing over to a display. "Does she prefer red or white? Or—"

Kuroo grabbed one of the cheaper bottles he saw. Then, after a moment's hesitation, picked up a second, and put them both down on the counter a little too heavily. "These will do."

Nagase bagged them up for him, making cheerful conversation as he did so. Kuroo barely responded, but Nagase didn't seem to need a reply. He was pulling out his wallet to show Kuroo a photo of his wife and children when Kuroo grabbed the bag and turned away.

"Sorry," he muttered, reaching for the door. "In a hurry."

The wine bottles bumped his thigh over and over as he walked quickly to the station. Their weight was comforting, the awareness that soon he would be home, safe in his own space, away from prying eyes and expectations. As he stood waiting for the train, he briefly thought about turning back. His mother would probably be happy to forget the argument if Kuroo apologised first. She was the only person he knew more stubborn than Kenma or Yaku. 

On reflection, Kuroo knew quite a lot of stubborn people. 

But the train pulled up as he was still debating, and Kuroo let himself be led by the weight of the bottles against his leg, eager to get home to Baron and his quiet apartment.

 

 

The next couple of weeks passed in a daze. Kuroo and his mother avoided one another at work for several days, before he finally went to her office with a belated birthday gift and a grovelling apology. She didn't apologise for inviting Kenma, but Kuroo found that he didn't care enough, now that the moment had passed, to be upset about it anymore. 

The weather grew warmer and wetter, and Kuroo made sure to text his friends back to avoid a repeat of Bokuto showing up at his door. Suga's birthday came and went, and Kuroo ducked out at the last minute, claiming a bout of food poisoning. He didn't feel as guilty as he should have for missing it.

Summer vacation approached all too slowly. Work exhausted him. Teaching, normally a refuge, became a relentless drudge. At work, older colleagues asked polite questions about his love life, teased him about settling down; Nita still avoided conversation with him despite her friendliness. The endless rain made everything dull and grey.

Kenma finally texted him on a Friday afternoon. Kuroo felt his phone vibrate in his pocket during his last class of the day, but he'd got into the habit of ignoring most of his messages, and it wasn't until he was sitting on the train home that he remembered to check it.

_where did you go?_

Fury surged up in Kuroo's chest. Heat flooded his face. His hands shook where he gripped the phone. 

_Where did I go?_ he wrote back, having to type it out several times when he kept missing the characters he wanted.  
_Where have YOU been??_  
_Mom was really hurt when you didn't come over on her birthday_  
_You could at least have told her you weren't gonna show your face_

_kuro_  
_I already apologised about that_

Kuroo's jaw clenched. He thought of Kenma and his mother talking again behind his back, Kenma apologising and her keeping it from him. How often did they talk without him knowing? Did they talk about him?

 _Not to me_ , he wrote back at last.

Kenma's reply was a long time coming. Kuroo got off the train, holding his phone with both hands, staring at the screen as he walked down the steps to the street. Finally, Kenma responded.

_I didn't think you'd want to see me_  
_you didn't text me after we fought, I thought you needed space_

Kuroo bit his cheek so hard he could taste blood. _Haven't we had enough space from each other??_

His chest was tight, his breathing heavy. Kuroo stopped in the harsh light from a late night pharmacy and leaned against a lamppost, still clutching and staring at his phone. A bus passed close to the curb, sending up a splash of water from a puddle that splattered muddy water over his shins. Kuroo swore and took a step back, but didn't look away from his phone. 

_I don't want things to change_

Kuroo's eyes burned. He almost threw his phone to the floor in his frustration, but managed to type back with shaking fingers. 

_Things have already changed_

He thrust his phone back into his pocket and started to walk. He didn't notice if Kenma responded, but he wouldn't have looked even if he had. He kept his hands jammed in the pockets of his hoodie, walking briskly as if he could expel his frustration in the pounding of his feet on the pavement, in the exertion of his stride. Kuroo didn't walk straight home, instead taking a detour through his neighbourhood, avoiding Kenma's own apartment, even though he probably wouldn't get back from work for another hour or two. He passed a small row of shops: the cafe he and Kenma had visited several times, a barber's shop with faded pictures in the window, a convenience store that reminded him of the one near his mother's apartment.

After a moment's hesitation, he doubled back and went inside. 

 

 

Kuroo was halfway through a bottle of cheap shochu when there was a knock at his apartment door. It was sharp and rapid, unlike Kenma's knock, and Kuroo assumed it was one of his neighbours come to complain about the volume of his music. 

"Go away!" he shouted without getting up from the couch. 

The visitor knocked again, and then a voice called out through the door. "Kuro—it's me. Open the door, please."

Something dark and hot rolled through Kuroo's stomach, surging up in his chest. He got to his feet, still holding the bottle in his left hand, and staggered to the door. Sure enough, a glance through the peephole showed him that Kenma was waiting on the other side. Kuroo wrenched the door open and stood staring at him. 

"What do you want, Kenma?"

Kenma's eyes flicked from Kuroo's furious expression to the bottle in his hand. "I called you."

"I didn't answer."

Kenma's mouth made a flat line. "You should let me in, Baron will get out."

Kuroo snorted and turned his back on him. "Whatever," he muttered, taking a few unsteady steps back into the apartment. Kenma's footsteps followed him, then the door closed again a little too loudly. 

"What're you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Kuroo said, raising the bottle in salute. He glanced over his shoulder. Kenma was still hovering near the door, looking wary. "I can't keep doing this, Kenma."

Kenma's eyes snapped to his, his hands making fists at his sides. "What do you mean?"

"You know," Kuroo said, gesturing vaguely. "You keep showing up here, acting like things are gonna be different between us. But in the end it's the same shit. You keeping secrets, pushing me away—"

"Stop it," Kenma said quietly. 

Kuroo shook his head. "You stop. I'm tryin' to get drunk in peace."

Kenma took a step toward him, and his eyes tracked between Kuroo's face and the bottle in his hand. "Give me that," he said, his voice wavering.

Kuroo held it out of reach. "Why? I want it."

Kenma's expression darkened. "Tetsurou," he said coldly, holding out his hand. "Give it to me. Now."

The severity of Kenma's tone cut through the buzz of alcohol. Kenma could be snappish and grumpy, but he was rarely angry, not really angry. 

"Why?" Kuroo asked again, dropping his arm and handing over the bottle. 

Kenma turned away from him. He upended the bottle into the sink, pouring away its contents. 

"Hey—" Kuroo started forward, but Kenma pushed him away. "Kenma," Kuroo said, laughing uncertainly. "Come on—"

He tried to take another step forward. This time, Kenma let the bottle clatter into the sink and turned so that he could push Kuroo away with both hands. "Stop it, Kuro!" he said, shoving Kuroo back against the counter. "Just—just stop!"

Kuroo stared at him. Kenma was breathing hard, and Kuroo didn't think it was from the effort of pushing him. "What's going on?" he asked, reaching out to curl his fingers around Kenma's elbow.

Kenma snatched his arm away. "Don't."

"Don't what?" Kuroo snapped, his patience fraying. "Maybe if you'd actually tell me what's going on for once, I wouldn't keep fucking it up."

"Kuro—" Kenma said in an awkward voice, starting to turn away.

"And don't fucking tell me to drop it," Kuroo said, pushing himself away from the counter. "Don't tell me it doesn't matter, don't keep lying to me—tell me the _truth_ , Kenma."

Kenma took a shuddering breath. He glanced up after a moment, and Kuroo was startled to see that his eyes were red. 

"Kenma—" Kuroo said softly. 

"You make it really, really difficult," Kenma said, his voice halting and breathless. He reached out one shaking hand and touched Kuroo's shoulder. "It's—really hard to be around you."

"What do you mean?" Kuroo asked gently, trying to still the panicked sensation that was rising in his chest. His mind started throwing scenarios at him, the little voice in the back of his head wasting no time in getting started. "Is it—" _me, is it me? Am I too annoying? Did I forget how to be your friend? Did I push too hard? Not hard enough? Do you even like me anymore?_

"It's nothing you did," Kenma said, looking away. 

Kuroo swallowed. "Then..." he said, aware that he was stalling, trying to find the right words. "I—I don't understand." He bit his cheek and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to gather his courage. "Do you—not want to be my friend anymore?"

"Kuro, no," Kenma said, sounding cross, almost as though he were scolding him. "It's not—fuck, it's not about you. Not everything is about you."

Kuroo fell back half a step. It was too close to what his mother had shouted at him, and his stomach turned at the memory, doubly guilty. "I know that."

With a groan, Kenma put his hands over his face. "Fuck. I'm sorry, I—I know you know that."

"Tell me," Kuroo said, an urgent note rising in his voice. "Tell me what's wrong, I'll help." Kenma dropped his hands and shook his head, looking pained. "Or—I'll go away," Kuroo continued desperately. "If that's what you need. I'll give you some space, I'll stop calling, and—"

Kenma grabbed the front of Kuroo's shirt. "Shut _up_ , Tetsurou," he snarled.

Kuroo stared at him. The shirt pulled at his neck where Kenma was gripping it tightly, and he could see the unshed tears gathered in the corner of Kenma's eyes. Kuroo wanted to speak, maybe to apologise again, but Kenma's angry words were still echoing through his head, so all he did was hold Kenma's gaze, his eyes darting between Kenma's eyes and his parted lips. 

They moved at the same time. Kenma tugged sharply on Kuroo's shirt, and Kuroo reached to pull Kenma against him, fingers digging tightly into his back as they threw themselves into a clumsy kiss. After a moment Kenma moaned against Kuroo's lips and loosened his grip, slipping his arms up around Kuroo's neck and pulling him down.

Kuroo's head was a dizzy rush of sensations, drowning out all the anxious thoughts and worries. It was impossible to think when Kenma's fingers were in his hair, when his hands found the softness of Kenma's skin beneath his hoodie, when Kenma's tongue brushed his own in their panting, open-mouthed kiss. 

"Kenma," Kuroo gasped when Kenma turned his head. He yanked the hood of Kenma's sweater to one side and scraped his teeth over the side of Kenma's neck, sucking hungrily on his skin. The noise Kenma made in response made him shudder from head to toe. "Is—is this—okay?"

Kenma groaned and his fingers tightened in Kuroo's hair, yanking his head back roughly. "We shouldn't do this," he murmured, already leaning up to kiss Kuroo again. "Kuro, mm— _ah_."

Kuroo lowered his hands to Kenma's waist again, pushing up inside his hoodie, before dropping to his slender waist. He wasn't as thin as he'd been in college, which Kuroo liked. He felt more solid now, and Kuroo had the sudden urge to rub his face against Kenma's stomach, to try putting his mouth in different places and see what kind of noises Kenma would make. 

"Kuro," Kenma murmured, cupping Kuroo's face between his hands. He kissed the corner of Kuroo's mouth once, then again, then his cheekbone, his jaw. "Kuro, I'm sorry—"

Kuroo's fingers gripped Kenma's hips more tightly. "C-call me Tetsurou," he whispered. 

Kenma pulled back a little way, looking up into Kuroo's eyes for several moments before he swallowed heavily. It was so quiet in the apartment that Kuroo heard the soft, wet sound of Kenma's lips parting. "Tetsurou," he said in a solemn voice. 

Without his say so, Kuroo's lips curled into a shy smile. "Okay," he admitted. "That's weird."

"Maybe we should stop," Kenma muttered, looking away, letting his hands fall from Kuroo's face.

Kuroo's heart leapt into his throat. "Is that what you want?"

Kenma bit his lip. He shook his head, making his fringe fall into his eyes. Kuroo reached up to brush it aside, and slipped his finger under Kenma's chin. 

"Kenma," he murmured, before leaning down to kiss him gently. 

Kenma kissed him back, forcing aside Kuroo's attempt at gentleness and arching against him. He clenched his fists in Kuroo's clothes, grabbing at him through his t-shirt. As Kuroo crashed back against the counter again he pulled Kenma closer, moving his hand around to cradle Kenma's head, fingers tangling in his hair. 

After a few minutes they broke apart, panting. Kuroo nuzzled the edge of Kenma's jaw with his nose, wrapping his arms tightly around Kenma's back. Reaching up, Kenma ran his fingers through Kuroo's hair, short nails dragging over his nape and making him shiver

"Kenma," Kuroo murmured, low and soft. He ran the pad of his thumb up Kenma's spine, and relished the way he shivered in response. "Can I—uh, can we—"

"Let's go to your room," Kenma said, curling his fingers in the front of Kuroo's t-shirt.

Kuroo's throat felt like he'd just tried to swallow a spoonful of flour. Nodding, he released Kenma and reached for his hand instead. He was very aware that he hadn't tidied his bedroom, and that it was more than three weeks since he had washed the sheets on his bed. They were tangled up at the foot of the bed, and Baron was asleep on his pillow.

"Uh," Kuroo said, surveying the mess. "Just a second."

"Kuro, I've seen your room in worse states than this." 

Kenma tugged at his hand, and Kuroo turned, his stomach tight and anxious. "Sorry—" he began to say, but Kenma silenced him with a kiss. 

This time, things quickly grew more heated. Kenma fisted his hand in Kuroo's hair, and Kuroo pushed up Kenma's hoodie, palms spreading across his hot skin. Kuroo's heart was pounding and he wondered if Kenma could hear it, or if he already knew that Kuroo was equal parts turned on and terrified. 

As if could read Kuroo's mind, Kenma's mouth lingered over his throat, lips trembling at the point where Kuroo's pulse beat furiously. Kuroo moved first, tugging at Kenma's hoodie, and then they were both pulling each other's clothes in a frantic struggle to undress as quickly as they could. Kuroo pulled Kenma's hoodie and t-shirt off together, and grinned into a messy kiss when his own shirt got caught on his watch, making Kenma swear at him under his breath.

"This is still weird," Kuroo muttered, when Kenma reached for Kuroo's waistband and tugged his sweatpants down over his ass. 

Kenma grunted, turning his hand to palm Kuroo through his underwear. Kuroo's knees went a little weak, and his hands wouldn't cooperate when he reached down to unfasten Kenma's jeans. It took him three tries but he finally got the button loose, and Kenma took over to unfasten the zip. With a groan, Kuroo slid his hands inside Kenma's loose jeans to grab his ass.

" _Tetsurou_ ," Kenma moaned, making Kuroo flush. 

"Okay," he stammered, pulling away a little. "Okay, let's—yeah, uh—"

Kenma stepped past him and sat down on the bed, lifting his hips so that he could slip his jeans off. After a moment, Kuroo stopped staring and leaned down to help. He tossed Kenma's jeans onto the floor, then reached to pull off his socks, though he only managed to remove one before Kenma grabbed hold of his arms and pulled him onto the bed.

They crashed together in an awkward tangle. Kenma stuck one of his feet into the waistband of Kuroo's sweatpants, pushing them down a little way. Laughing, Kuroo clambered out of them and kicked them off the bed, enjoying Kenma's scowl at his awkward limbs. Baron, who had been pretending to sleep, finally raised his head and gave them a baleful stare before getting to his feet and hopping off the bed. 

"Well, that solves one problem," Kuroo said, looking down at Kenma with a crooked smile. 

Kenma hooked one of his legs around Kuroo's and slid his hand up Kuroo's arm to his shoulder. They hadn't bothered to turn on the light, but a warm glow spilled in from the street lamps outside, and more from the half open door. It was enough to make out the strange, wondering look on Kenma's face, his eyes wide and curious.

"Hey," Kuroo said, tilting his head. "You okay?"

Kenma's tongue darted out and touched his bottom lip. "Is this—" he began, then bit his lip. "Do you want this?"

Kuroo's eyes widened. "Kenma," he said in surprise. He propped himself on one hand and cupped Kenma's cheek with the other. Kenma leaned into his touch, his eyes falling halfway shut. Kuroo felt a fond smile steal across his face, and he lowered his head and nuzzled against Kenma's cheek. 

"Tetsurou," Kenma murmured, and Kuroo shivered. 

"Kenma. Can I—"

" _Yes_ ," Kenma sighed, clutching at Kuroo's shoulders.

Kuroo laughed under his breath. Pushing himself up again, he ran his hand from Kenma's cheek down to his chest, tracing the line of his sternum. He looked down to see his palm resting just above Kenma's navel, then up again at his heavy gaze, at his bottom lip turning white where it was caught between his teeth. 

Kenma caught him looking and raised an eyebrow at him. Kuroo replied with a shaky grin before sliding his hand down between them and finding Kenma's erection. He rolled his palm over it, pressing down with the heel of his hand, and Kenma made a choked off noise of pleasure. 

Kuroo did it again, wanting to hear him, and Kenma dug his nails into Kuroo's shoulders. He moaned, before biting his lip on the sound. 

"You don't need to be quiet," Kuroo said, ducking his head to kiss Kenma's jaw softly. He pushed his hand under the waistband of Kenma's boxers, holding him with shaking fingers. "Oh— _Kenma_."

"Tetsurou," Kenma cried out, rolling his hips up. "D-do you have—"

"Yeah," Kuroo said quickly, propping himself up on one arm. He leaned across Kenma and tugged open the drawer of his nightstand, rifling around until he found the unopened box of condoms he'd bought after his second date with Fujikage. He had to let go of Kenma to tear off the plastic film, and while he was distracted, Kenma reached down to touch him again, making him choke on a breath. "Kenma—"

"More," Kenma said, throwing his other arm around Kuroo's neck and pulling him closer. 

Kuroo obliged, and as they kissed they slowly tangled themselves together on top of the sheets, moving against one another to chase the heat and weight of each other's bodies. At some point they fumbled off their underwear and poured themselves into each other with renewed vigour. Kuroo couldn't seem to stop kissing Kenma, putting his mouth on any part he could reach, lingering when he found a spot that made Kenma twitch and gasp. 

"Tetsurou," Kenma moaned, pressing their mouths together again and tangling his fingers in Kuroo's hair. He bit Kuroo's bottom lip and sucked on it slowly, before fisting his hand more tightly and pushing down, watching with a heavy gaze as Kuroo obediently slid down his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote the second half of this chapter last spring, and have been writing toward it ever since. it took a lot longer than I expected to get there, and I want to thank you all for sticking with me, and for all your incredible encouragement and friendship over the past year since I started this story. 
> 
> When I started this story I was in a very bad place. Things continue to improve, with inevitable ups and downs, and your support has made a huge difference to that. The number of people who've reached out to me and shared with me has been incredible. Please know that I see you all, I love you all, and I want you all to know that things can get better. Things _can_ get better. For Kuroo AND for you.
> 
> Please take care of yourselves. And leave me a comment, if you feel so inclined ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Kuroo woke slowly the next morning, achy and confused for several moments until memories of the previous night came crashing in._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo woke slowly the next morning, achy and confused for several moments until memories of the previous night came crashing in. He sat bolt upright, and regretted it immediately when his head throbbed. Squinting, he looked around him with bleary eyes. He was alone in bed, the sheets rumpled beside him. Kuroo's stomach churned in a way that had nothing to do with his hangover. He scrambled out of bed and pulled on a pair of discarded boxers before stumbling to the door of his bedroom.

He sagged with relief when he saw that Kenma was still there. He was crouched by the kitchen, hand outstretched. Baron pushed at his fingers, purring loudly. 

Kuroo stood and watched him for several moments, his insides warmed by the sight. There was a tug in the middle of his spine, a longing that had gone unnoticed until last night stoked the embers, made flames rip through him. He hadn't known how much he could _want_ Kenma, and he was surprised by the urgency that rose in him now, despite the hangover that was slowly increasing in severity. He wanted to pull Kenma into his arms, to hold him and kiss him, and tell him every little silly secret they hadn't yet got around to sharing. 

Kenma looked up suddenly, eyes wide. For several moments they held one another's gaze, the moment heavy with potential. At last Kuroo stepped out of his bedroom, and Kenma got awkwardly to his feet.

"Hey," Kenma said shyly.

Kuroo glanced down at Baron, then at Kenma, fully dressed, with his bag slung over his shoulder. The heat in his chest twisted, turning to a heavy, sick feeling. "Kenma. Are you—sneaking out?"

Kenma reached up to grab the tail of his bag strap, gripping it tightly. "I have to get home," he said in a small voice. 

A sharp pain had started to radiate from behind Kuroo’s left eye. He winced, trying to ignore it. "It's early," he said. He hadn't looked at the time, but the light coming through the window was grey and pale. He and Kenma stared at one another for several moments, and Kuroo shifted his weight to his other leg, suddenly conscious of the fact that he was only wearing his underwear, while Kenma was fully dressed. His head, while fuzzy, was full of the previous night; Kenma’s skin pressed hot and sweaty against his own; the taste of sweat on the back of Kenma’s neck, the inside of his elbow; the sound he made when Kuroo went down on him. Kuroo cleared his throat, glancing away. "You don’t have to go,” he said, closing his eyes briefly to make himself braver. He took a step closer, moving into Kenma's space. “You could come back to bed."

Kenma said nothing for several moments. "I have a lot of work to do," he ventured at last, twisting the bag strap between his fingers. 

Kuroo swallowed, and found his throat miserably dry. He licked his lips, but it didn't help. "Are you just gonna leave?"

Kenma blinked at him. He reminded Kuroo a small animal, paralysed by the headlights of a vehicle. "Last night," he began, voice tremulous. 

"What about it?" Kuroo asked, moving closer again.

"I didn't mean to—" Kenma began, and broke off, looking away. "It shouldn't have happened like that."

Kuroo swallowed again. He needed a glass of water, maybe some aspirin. He wanted to put his arms around Kenma. "How should it have happened?" he asked quietly. 

Kenma opened his mouth, and closed it again. He shook his head. “Kuro.”

Kuroo's heart pounded in his throat. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice rough. He lifted his hand to touch Kenma's arm, then slid his fingers inside the cuff of Kenma's sleeve and touched his wrist gently. "Kenma," he sighed.

Kenma’s face crumpled, and he closed the remaining distance between them, reaching out to pull Kuroo against him. “I missed you too,” he mumbled, pressing his face against Kuroo’s bare chest. His short nails dug into Kuroo’s back. His breath was hot and damp. “Kuro, listen—”

Kuroo wrapped his arms around Kenma, backpack and all. "What is it?" he murmured, pressing his cheek against Kenma's hair. "Kenma?"

Kenma groaned, his fingers clasping around Kuroo's biceps. "Wait.”

Reluctantly, Kuroo pulled back. Kenma wasn’t looking at him; his eyes were downcast, his lip pulled between his teeth, white from being bitten.

“Hey,” Kuroo murmured. He reached up and brushed Kenma’s hair out of his eyes. “What is it?”

Kenma shook his head, expression turning pinched. A sick feeling rolled around in Kuroo’s stomach. 

“Kenma, seriously,” Kuroo said, pulling back so that the only place they were touching was his hands on Kenma’s shoulders. “You’re worrying me.” He swallowed thickly. “Is it…about last night?”

Again, Kenma shook his head. “No,” he whispered, but his mouth twisted with a frown. “Kind of.” He groaned and pulled back, out of Kuroo’s grasp. “It’s more complicated than that.”

The sick feeling was spreading through Kuroo’s chest, a horrible shakiness infecting his limbs. “Okay.” Kuroo wished he’d put more clothes on. He glanced around and spotted his cardigan flung over the back of the couch, and moved over to grab it. “Keep on building the suspense, by the way,” he muttered as he pulled it on. “I don’t mind at all.”

Kenma groaned again. He ran his fingers through his hair, twisted and pulled at it in frustration. “Alright, okay—fuck, just—alright.”

“Kenma, seriously. You’re really scaring me.”

“This isn’t helping!” Kenma snapped at him. He closed his eyes for several seconds, then jabbed a finger at the couch. “Sit.”

“Sit?”

Kenma nodded. “I—I need to—" He paused, took a deep breath. “I have to tell you something.”

Kuroo heaved a sigh. “I figured.” He took a seat on the couch. His stomach was squirming around, and he wrapped his arms around himself to try and quell the sensation. 

“That summer,” Kenma began. He perched on the edge of the coffee table, glancing down when Baron came over and rubbed against his ankle. 

“Uh, at the beach?” Kuroo asked, when Kenma didn’t continue.

Kenma winced. “The beach, getting fired—all of it.”

“...Okay?

“I—don’t know how to tell you this,” Kenma said, his voice dropping to a whisper. He leaned over, curling into himself, hair falling over his eyes. “I’ve never had to _tell_ anyone before. Not—not someone I care about. Some people just _knew_ , and everyone else—I didn’t want them to know.” 

A hundred terrible possibilities flashed through Kuroo’s mind. Was Kenma sick? Had he done something awful? “What—” Kuroo began, voice cracking. He swallowed and tried again. “What is it?”

Kenma made a soft noise, a weak huff directed at the floor. “I’m an alcoholic.”

Kuroo stared at him.

Baron gave up on Kenma’s ankle and started scratching at the corner of the rug, his claws making little popping sounds each time he tugged them free of the weave. Kenma still didn’t look up.

“You—” Kuroo said, voice weak and breathless. “You’re—what?”

“Yeah.” Kenma looked away. He brought his hand up to his face, wiped it on his sleeve. “So, there you go,” he mumbled. “Now you know.” He got to his feet, still keeping his face turned away. “I should go now. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Kenma—no, wait,” Kuroo said, standing up quickly. The sudden movement made him dizzy, and he grimaced through the rush of nausea. “What—what the hell are you talking about?”

Kenma groaned softly. “Do you really want to know?” he asked, sounding pained. He looked up finally, his eyes red. "Do you?"

His voice wouldn't come; Kuroo could only nod.

Looking away, Kenma shook his head, seeming almost angry. “I started in university,” he muttered eventually

Kuroo sat down again, the weight of his body overpowering his ability to stand. “Back then?” he asked weakly.

“Just when I went out at first,” Kenma said, almost as though he was muttering to himself, but loud enough for Kuroo to hear it. “It made it easier to be around people. When I looked back at pictures of me later, there wasn’t a single one where I didn’t have a drink in my hand.”

Kuroo remembered suddenly that old photo he’d seen of Kenma on a defunct twitter account; his hair long and dyed grey, a glass of wine halfway to his lips. Kuroo put his head in his hands. "I—I don't remember that," he mumbled, his gut churning. 

“And then we all got jobs," Kenma continued in the same dull tone. "And it got worse, although I didn’t realise it.” Kenma sighed. “That was just the culture. Working and drinking, working some more. And it—I’d let it become a crutch by then.” He turned away, wrapping his arms around himself. “Remember when I lost that job? I told you I got fired?”

Kuroo looked up, nodded, already knowing what was coming next. He wanted to throw up.

“They fired me for coming to work drunk."

"Kenma," Kuroo said, grimacing. 

"It got better when I moved in with you, for a while.” Kenma grimaced. “But then…there was the beach, and the party. God, I barely remember any of that week, I was so—" He groaned, closed his eyes. "And then, Shouyou—”

Straightening up a little, Kuroo finally found a shred of his voice. “You said he caught you, with that—that guy.”

Kenma nodded grimly. “He was angry with me. I—I thought he was going to stop talking to me for good.”

“He’d never do that.”

“He asked me to stop,” Kenma said. “But I—I couldn’t. I tried, but.” He shook his head, shoulders slumping. “He and Hitoka both tried to help.”

Kuroo, already in free fall, felt the abrupt tug of the rope around his stomach suddenly yank tight. “Yacchan knew?” 

Kenma’s face screwed up miserably. “Shouyou went to her, he didn’t know how to help me by himself.”

“Okay.”

“They couldn’t help,” Kenma said listlessly. “But it’s not their fault.”

He paused again, and his eyes flicked to Kuroo’s face only briefly before he looked firmly away. 

“What is it?” Kuroo whispered, fear making his voice small. His stomach hurt. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Kenma closed his eyes. “Tetsurou—”

“Tell me,” Kuroo said, voice becoming a growl. “Enough—enough fucking secrets, Kenma.”

Kenma took a long, shuddering breath. “A few months after that,” he began, the words diminishing until Kuroo could barely hear him. “I had a bad night. You had just started seeing Akina. I—I wanted to see you, so badly.” He winced. “But I was too ashamed to call you. I ended up at your apartment, somehow. I could barely walk.” 

Kuroo blinked at him. "My apartment?"

Kenma nodded. 

“In Nagoya?” 

“No,” Kenma said slowly, as if the words were causing him great pain. “Here. In Tokyo.”

“Oh,” said Kuroo. He suddenly felt as if someone had shone a very bright light on him, illuminating all the dark corners, an uncomfortable heat on the back of his neck. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I—oh.”

“I asked her not to tell you.” 

Kuroo’s eyes burned. “She knew this whole time."

Kenma nodded. 

"Right," Kuroo said, staring ahead of him. "Okay then."

"Kuro—"

"How," Kuroo began, choking on the sound. He cleared his throat and tried again. "How could you not tell me?"

Kenma looked wretched. "I just...couldn't." He shook his head. "I couldn't stand the idea of you thinking less of me."

Kuroo was still fuzzy headed and overwhelmed, so it took a few moments for Kenma's words to sink in. When they did, they brought with them a terrible coldness that seized around his lungs. "You—you didn't seriously think I'd care?" he asked in disbelief.

"I didn't say it was rational," Kenma snapped. He gave Kuroo a cold, steady look. "Tell me you don't know exactly how that feels."

The weight of Kenma's gaze on him made Kuroo's skin prickle uncomfortably, and he glanced away. 

"I think I should go."

Kuroo swallowed thickly. "Alright."

Nodding, Kenma picked up his bag from where he'd dropped it, and took a faltering step toward the door. "Don't hold it against her," he said.

Heat bubbled up in Kuroo's throat, but fizzled out moments later. He was too numb for anger, too conscious of all the things he'd missed in the months since they'd found one another again. The way Kenma shied away from bars, made excuses not to go to parties, the look on his face every time Kuroo had a little too much to drink. Sickness swirled in his gut, and he longed for Kenma to be gone if only so he could run to the bathroom and throw up his stomach lining without the shame of Kenma seeing him. 

"Take care of yourself," Kenma said. "Please?"

Kuroo let out a weak snort. "Since when do you say 'please'," he joked feebly. 

Kenma didn't smile. "I mean it, Kuro. I—can't be the one to look after you. Do it yourself."

"I never asked you to do anything," Kuroo spat, not looking round at him.

"Fine," Kenma said quietly. "I won't."

And then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him and Baron adopting a mournful position beside it, waiting for him to return. 

"Oi," Kuroo yelled, scowling at him. "Stop it."

Baron stared at him, then opened his mouth and yawned hugely before turning away. 

Kuroo wanted to hit something. Instead he put his elbows on his knees and held his head tightly between his hands, screwing his eyes shut tight. He couldn't stop replying the awful moments when they'd gotten into that fight the previous night; Kenma snatching the bottle from him, pouring the dregs of shochu down the drain with shaking hands. Had Kenma kissed him because he wanted to, or because Kuroo still had the taste of alcohol on his tongue?

"Fuck," Kuroo groaned, curling into himself more tightly. "Fuck, _fuck_."

He couldn't get it out of his head that his mother knew, had known the whole time. He had to speak to her. Kuroo got to his feet, moving too fast and wincing when all the blood rushed from his head, leaving him dizzy. Baron made a quizzical noise at him from over by the door, but Kuroo just scowled at him in return. He went to his bedroom and dressed hurriedly, trying to ignore the state of his bed, the unavoidable awareness of what he and Kenma had done together. What Kuroo was beginning to realise was a very, very foolish mistake.

 

 

The train ride over to his mother's apartment didn't make him feel any calmer. If anything, the time alone with his thoughts only made Kuroo more anxious, more furious, stirring up all his worries into a messy tangle in his chest. By the time Kuroo reached the door, his hands hurt from digging his nails into his palms too hard, and he still had no idea what he wanted to say to her. He raised his fist and hammered on the door. 

After a minute or so, he knocked again. There was no response, and he tugged his key out of his pocket with a sick feeling in his stomach. To his relief, his mother wasn't home, but the haze of anger returned when he'd assured himself that nothing awful had happened to her. He pulled out his phone and called her mobile.

_"Tetsurou? What are you doing up so early?"_

"Where the hell are you?"

His mother made a soft sound of surprise. _"I just got to work. What's wrong?"_

Kuroo gritted his teeth. Of course. He'd forgotten that his mother would be supervising students cramming for their summer exams. "I'm coming down there," he said, wincing at the shake in his voice. 

_"What? Now? Sweetheart, is something wrong?"_

"Of course there is," he snapped, before hanging up on her. 

The school was just about in walking distance, and Kuroo made it down there ten minutes faster than it usually took him. His mother wasn't in her classroom, but Kuroo found her in the faculty office, drinking a cup of coffee while she pored over a magazine. 

"Tetsurou," she said, standing up quickly when he knocked open the door. Her magazine slithered to the floor but she didn't seem to notice. "What's wrong? I tried to call you back—"

"You knew about Kenma," Kuroo said. It wasn't what he'd meant to start with, but the words were out before he could even decide what it was he wanted to say. For several seconds they stared at one another. Kuroo touched his lower lip with his tongue. "You knew this whole time."

She frowned, but her hand fluttered at the edge of her desk, and her mouth was a taut line. "Knew what—"

"About the drinking!" Kuroo shouted, rough voice betraying his late night and the hangover that was still hovering over him like a dark, murky cloud.

His mother stared back at him, her face taut with shock. And then she sagged, her expression crumpling and her shoulders pulling in. "He finally told you."

Even though he'd known it, the admission still hit Kuroo like a fist to the stomach. He fell back a step, holding his chest as though that could stop the pain radiating out from his sternum, suffocating him. His throat was tight. "Why—" he croaked, leaning back against the door frame. 

"Oh, Tetsurou," she said, coming toward him. "I begged him to talk to you about it. I wanted to tell you, but he was so afraid of you finding out. I couldn't betray his trust like that."

"What about me?" Kuroo asked in a petulant voice. 

Her face hardened. "Don't be so _selfish_ , Tetsurou," she said, voice climbing. "You didn't see Kenma at his worst, you can't imagine what it was like for him to be in that place, all alone."

Kuroo's eyes burned. "Mom—"

"He _trusted_ me," she said, her voice cracking. "He just showed up one night, crying and stumbling—barely making any sense. I had to hold his hair back while he threw up over and over, and all the time he just kept begging me, 'Don't tell Kuro, please don't tell Kuro about me'."

Angry tears slipped down Kuroo's cheeks. "He was drunk, he—he didn't _know_ —"

"Don't you think I _wanted_ to tell you?" she demanded.

Kuroo made an involuntary sound in his throat. "Then _he_ should have told me."

His mother sighed. Her voice was small and sad. "Yes, he should have."

"I—I can't—I don't know how to—to handle this," Kuroo said, his breath coming short. "Why the hell—couldn't he tell me before?"

"Sit down," his mother said, pulling out the chair at the desk opposite her own. She reached out to him. "Tetsurou—"

"Don't!" Kuroo shouted, pulling away when she took hold of his arm. He ran his fingers through his hair, gazing around wildly. "Fuck—I just—I just let him go. I have to talk to him."

"Tetsurou, _what_ are you talking about? What happened?"

Kuroo shook his head, tearing away from her. "I have to go."

"Tetsurou!" she called, following him into the hallway. "What _happened_ between you two?"

"It's none of your business!" Kuroo snarled at her over his shoulder. 

Her eyes narrowed. "Kuroo Tetsurou, don't raise your voice to me at work."

Kuroo turned away from her and kept walking.

 

 

Kuroo thought about it all the way back from the school; what he wanted to say to Kenma, what Kenma would say back. He rehearsed the conversation in his head a hundred times, a hundred different ways. 

There was no answer when Kuroo buzzed Kenma's apartment. Kuroo's texts had gone unanswered; when he tried to call, it went straight to voicemail. Kuroo paced in front of the building for ten minutes, his anxiety growing. Eventually someone happened to leave the building, and Kuroo took the opportunity to sneak in behind them. 

The lift was out of order, and Kuroo was out of breath when he finally reached the fifth floor via the stairs. He went over to Kenma's apartment door and knocked loudly. 

"Kenma!" he called after a minute passed with no response. "Open up, it's me!"

There was no answer. No sound of Kenma moving around in the apartment. Kuroo knocked again, then pressed his ear to the door. 

"Kenma! Don't ignore me!"

A door opened on the other side of the hallway and an elderly woman poked her head out. "Who are you?" she demanded.

Kuroo flushed. "I—I'm Kenma's best friend. He lives here."

"Well he's not here now," she snapped. "He left a half hour ago with a suitcase."

The bottom of Kuroo's stomach fell away. "What did you say?"

"Shouldn't you know that already if you're such good friends?" she asked in a sarcastic voice. "Go on, get out of here."

Kuroo stepped away, and trudged down the stairs again. Kenma hadn't mentioned going away, and it seemed too much of a coincidence for him to suddenly flit away so soon after what had happened between them. When Kuroo reached the bottom of the stairs, he dropped to a crouch and sat down on the bottom step, staring at his hands. Kenma's phone was still going straight to voicemail. Kuroo was paralysed, not knowing where to go next. He wondered if he should try his mom again, before remembering that she wasn't home. Then he thought of heading back to the school, but the likelihood of Kenma going there was slim. 

Eventually, he pulled out his phone and called Bokuto.

_"Hey hey hey! This is Bokuto, leave a message!"_

Kuroo swore and hung up again. 

_Kou_ , he texted, fingers shaking. _Have you heard from Kenma?_

Not expecting a reply right away, he sent a similar message to Akaashi, and then to Yachi as well. He didn't have Hinata's number, but Hinata was unlikely to tell him anything that Yachi couldn't. 

A couple of people came and left as Kuroo sat there, casting him odd looks as they passed him on the stairs, and eventually he levered himself up and stepped out into the street. The sun had broken out of the muggy cloud cover from that morning, warming his face and bare arms as he stood there on the pavement, forlorn. He thought about going to Kenma's office, and he was halfway down the street, the address pulled up on his phone, before he stopped short. The last thing Kenma would want was Kuroo showing up at his workplace, red-eyed and in desperate need of a shower. After a moment's indecision, he walked back to his own apartment instead, dialling his mother again on his phone.

 _"Tetsurou,"_ she answered in a hushed voice. _"You'd better be calling with an apology—"_

"Kenma's gone," he said, voice breaking on the words. "Maybe he's just—I don't know, visiting someone, but—"

His mother sighed. _"I'm sorry, Tetsurou, but I don't have time right now—"_

"Mom, please," Kuroo begged, and bit his cheek to fight off the burning behind his eyes. "Do you have his parents' number? Please, I need to find him."

_"What did he say to you before he left?"_

Kuroo groaned. "God, what does it matter? I let him go once, I can't—I can't screw this up again."

 _"Sweetheart,"_ she said, sighing again. _"Listen to me, okay? Kenma's headstrong, and he spooks easily. You can't force this. If he's gone, maybe you have to let him go for a little while."_

"Mom, no," Kuroo sobbed, dropping to a crouch where he stood on the pavement. He tucked his head down, burying his fingers in his hair. "I can't—I can't lose him."

_"Tetsurou, listen to me. Go home, alright? I'll come over as soon as school finishes. Tetsurou?"_

Kuroo let the phone clatter to the ground, wrapping both arms around his head and clenching his fingers in his hair. He didn't care that people were passing him by, stepping around him as if they thought he might hurt them. His legs began to ache, protesting the strain, but he couldn't make himself stand for several minutes. It wasn't until his phone started to ring again, vibrating against his foot, that he was able to unfold himself, to reach down with one stiff arm and pick it up.

"...Hello?"

 _"Hello, Kuroo."_ It was Akaashi, and Kuroo slumped to his knees, disappointment making his stomach curdle. _"I'm afraid I haven't heard from Kenma for the past two weeks. Is everything alright?"_

Kuroo swallowed thickly. "Fine, Akaashi," he mumbled, in a poor imitation of his normal voice. "Just...let me know if he texts you."

_"Of course I will, but—"_

His voice cut off abruptly as Kuroo ended the call. He got to his feet, somewhat unsteady on his stiff legs. When he looked at his phone, he realised he'd been crouched on the pavement for almost twenty minutes without noticing how much time had passed. He put his phone in his pocket and stumbled the two blocks back to his apartment where he sat down with his back against the door, staring at his phone and willing it to ring.

 

 

Kuroo didn't notice the knocking on his door at first. It wasn't until the person on the other side started hammering with their fist that he snapped out of the daze he'd slipped into, jolting forward with a startled jerk of his head. 

"Tetsurou!"

It was his mother. Kuroo sat back against the door, listless, his stomach heavy in his chest. 

"Tetsurou," she called again, knocking loudly and rattling the door against his back. "Let me in, baby, please."

Baron brushed past Kuroo and sat down beside the door. He looked up at Kuroo, blinking at him inscrutably, then he put his head back and yowled. 

"Shut up," Kuroo snarled. 

Baron gazed at him with a baleful look. After a moment, he reached up and scratched at the door, stretching himself out and looking up at Kuroo with disdain. 

"Quit it," Kuroo groaned, giving Baron a gentle shove away. The cat grumbled and turned away with a flick of his tail.

"Tetsurou?" His mother's voice was closer. Kuroo heard the shuffle of her crouching down, her hand against the door. "Please—you don't have to let me in, but just answer me. You're scaring me, sweetheart."

Kuroo's shoulders hitched. His phone lay in his lap, blank and silent. Hot tears scorched the corners of his eyes, then spilled over his cheeks. 

"I'm sorry, baby," his mother said. Kuroo could feel her moving against the door. Her voice came again, slightly muffled, but right on the other side of the wood, as though she was speaking right into his ear. "Tetsurou—baby, I just want you to be _happy_. I'm so sorry about Kenma, I wish I could have told you." Her voice cracked, and Kuroo realised with a miserable jolt that she was crying too. He turned and pressed his own hand against the door. "I don't always get things right, and I'm sorry. I—I wish—p-parents didn't always—disappoint you. I'd give anything—I'd do _anything_ to make you happy. I—I—"

"Mom," Kuroo sobbed, fingers curling against the wood, nails scraping over the paint. 

"Let me in, baby, please—"

"I—c-can't." 

"Tetsurou, come on—you can do it, I know you can."

Shakily, Kuroo pushed himself to his knees and reached up to unlock the door. He inched it open a little, hanging his head. His mother sat just outside his door, her legs folded awkwardly beneath her, mascara streaked by the tears running down her face. 

"Mom," Kuroo said again, voice thick with tears. 

"C'mere, baby," she said, reaching for him. 

Kuroo slumped into her arms, and they held onto one another tightly. He remembered with a painful clarity all the times they'd fought recently, every awful word he'd said, every time he let his temper get the best of him. The sobs shook him, and he clutched at her more tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. 

"Oh, Tetsurou," she murmured, running her fingers through his hair. "What is it, sweetheart? What happened?"

"K-Kenma," Kuroo managed. "H-he's—gone."

"Gone?"

Kuroo nodded. He drew back, wiping his face and leaking nose on the shoulder of his t-shirt. "W-we—we—s-slept together." He looked away, flushing. "F-fucked it all up."

"Oh, honey."

"I can't—I can't do this anymore, I can't."

She put a hand to the side of his face, rubbed the tears away from his cheek with her thumb. "Don't give up just yet, Tetsurou." She leaned in and kissed his hot cheek. "I know you've got some fight in you yet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it gets better from here i PROMISE
> 
> pls yell at me i deserve it


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The next day, Kuroo got a phone call out of the blue. He'd just come back from the convenience store, and he set down the bag on the kitchen counter with a noisy clink of bottles while he dug in his pocket for his phone. The number was a landline, not one he recognised. He wondered if Kenma had gone to the trouble of calling him from a payphone. Maybe he'd lost his phone, or it had stopped working._
> 
> _Kuroo lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?" he answered, stomach quivering._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently got a tumblr ask about whether I had any songs for kuroken, and shared a link to [a playlist I'd made for Common side effects](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLeWjbkilsimsYarnlb8ww-EIyYxE4lL1H). Listen with adblock because YT is awful :3
> 
> I also posted some CSE art recently you might wanna check out if you missed it! One [here](https://notallballs.tumblr.com/post/168836358627/future-kuroken) and one [here](https://notallballs.tumblr.com/post/169316590412/how-is-cse-coming-along-ive-been-re-reading-it).

For the first few days, Kuroo looked. He went by Kenma's apartment again, he called friends, did everything he could think of short of putting up 'lost pet' posters. None of his friends seemed to take him very seriously. Perhaps they'd all resigned themselves to Kenma making periodic disappearances. 

On the third day after Kenma's flight, Kuroo finally gave in and called Kenma at work.

_"Sun Tech Architecture Workshop. How may I assist you?"_

"Oh, hi—" Kuroo licked his bottom lip nervously. "I'm returning a call from Kozume Kenma, one of your Technologists? Is he available to—"

_"I'm sorry, I'm afraid he's not in the office today. Can I take a message…?"_

Kuroo hung up the phone. It was possible that Kenma had asked his office not to tell anyone he was there, but Kuroo didn't think that was the case. Timed so neatly with him leaving his apartment, it seemed more likely that he really wasn't at work. The only question was where he'd gone. 

The next day, Kuroo got a phone call out of the blue. He'd just come back from the convenience store, and he set down the bag on the kitchen counter with a noisy clink of bottles while he dug in his pocket for his phone. The number was a landline, not one he recognised. He wondered if Kenma had gone to the trouble of calling him from a payphone. Maybe he'd lost his phone, or it had stopped working. 

Kuroo lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?" he answered, stomach quivering.

_"Kuroo, hi!"_

It was a woman's voice, and Kuroo deflated. He wondered for a moment if it was Nita, but realised it didn't sound like her. 

"Uh. Hi, uh—"

 _"It's Miura!"_ she said brightly. _"How're you doing?"_

Kuroo blinked. It took several moments for his brain to connect the name. "Miura-san," he said, sagging against the kitchen counter. "Hey, uh—is everything okay? I did put my rent in, didn't I?"

 _"Oh, it's nothing like that,"_ she said warmly. _"I was just calling to check in, see how things are?"_

"Ah." Kuroo looked around him, at the mess that had slowly reclaimed his apartment without anyone around to make him feel guilty enough to clean it. "Everything's...fine. The apartment is fine."

_"And you?"_

Kuroo frowned. "I'm...fine. Miura-san, is there—is something going on?"

She hummed anxiously. _"Kuroo, I'm calling about Kenma."_

"What?" Kuroo asked, standing up straight. "Kenma? What about him?"

_"Well, he—he asked me to let you know that he's okay."_

The words seemed to echo through him like a whisper bouncing around an empty oil drum. "He's okay," he repeated in a flat voice. If Kenma was okay, then why was he gone?

 _"Right, so—so you don't need to worry,"_ she said uncertainly. _"Although I'm sure you will anyway."_

"Is he—has he been at work?"

Miura laughed. _"I'd be the last to know,"_ she said, her voice cheerful again. _"The baby came a few weeks ago, so things have been pretty hectic around here."_

"Oh...congratulations." Kuroo was numb. "So, you haven't seen him."

_"Kenma? He said he was taking a sabbatical. A few weeks, maybe."_

Kuroo grabbed for the edge of the counter. "Weeks?" he croaked. 

_"Are you really okay, Kuroo?"_ Miura asked. _"You sound a little—hmm. Is there anything we can do?"_

"N-no," Kuroo said quickly. "Thanks, Miura-san. For passing along the message."

_"Anytime!"_

Kuroo hung up. He set his phone on the counter before letting himself slither to the floor. It seemed pointless to get up again. Baron stalked over to him after a while and clambered awkwardly into his lap. Kuroo dropped his legs to let Baron settle down on him, and reached out to stroke him from his ears to his tail. 

"I'm sorry, kitten," he mumbled, rubbing his fingers around Baron's ears. He'd been a terrible cat owner lately, almost as much as he'd been a terrible friend. Eyes burning, he scooped Baron up and cuddled him close, pressing his ear against Baron's chest to listen to him purring. Baron still loved him no matter how broken and pathetic he was, no matter that he was tired and frustrated more often than not. 

He thought of how lonely he'd be if he and Bokuto had never gone to get Baron back from Akina, and realised it was the first time he'd thought of her in months. He wondered how she was doing, and whether she was still dating the same person. The space in his chest that usually ached when he thought of her was calm. 

It didn't make him feel much better. He'd simply traded one heartbreak for another, far worse than the first.

 

 

The weather grew hotter, and the summer dragged on with no word from Kenma. 

The rest of Kuroo's friends kept their distance. Realistically, Kuroo knew that they all had good excuses; Bokuto was busy with endless practices, training camps and away games; Suga seemed to be spending most of his time traveling back and forth between Tokyo and Miyagi since his mother had been in a car accident; Yaku had been working away in Kyoto. Still, he felt the sting of their absence.

It made it easier for Kuroo to slip into self-induced solitude. If it weren't for his mother, he wouldn't have seen anyone. She visited him often, or forced him to come to her, dragging him on seemingly endless trips to the park or the supermarket, refusing to let him wallow. By unspoken agreement, neither of them drank in each other's company. 

He was on his way home from her apartment one morning, having stayed too late and decided to crash, when he remembered that he'd run out of cat food. The convenience store near his mother's apartment was only a block away, and after a moment's hesitation he doubled back. 

"Good morning—! Oh, hi, Kuroo."

Unlike his previous visits, Nagase didn't seem especially pleased to see him. His round, friendly face was lacking its usual cheer, his voice subdued when he greeted him. 

"Uh, hey," Kuroo muttered, before turning to hunt for cat food. He passed a display that had been set out for Tanabata, weeks earlier, and rolled his eyes before he caught himself. He thought of the state of his own apartment, with clothes and litter strewn all over. Looking down, he found a six pack of beer in his hands that he barely recalled picking up. He carefully replaced it on the shelf and picked up a bag of dry cat food instead.

"So, hey," Kuroo said, walking up to the counter. "I noticed your display is a little old."

Nagase's practised smile tightened. "Ah, well. My wife usually does the displays, but she's been under the weather." He sighed heavily. "And now Yuki-chan's caught chicken pox, so we're run off our feet."

After the cool greeting, Nagase's stark honesty was a splash of cold water. Kuroo was struck suddenly by how selfish he'd been of late. "I'm so sorry," he said reflexively.

"Oh, it's fine," Nagase said, his laughter a little strained. "The itching is driving her crazy, which is driving both of _us_ crazy, but it's not so bad."

"Do you have a picture of her?" Kuroo asked. He set the cat food on the counter. "Your daughter?"

Nagase's expression finally relaxed, and he grinned as he reached into his pocket for his phone. "With or without spots?" he joked. He pulled up his photo album before turning it for Kuroo to see. The photo was of a pretty, plump woman with a little girl, two or three years old, sitting on her lap. 

"They're beautiful," Kuroo said, surprised by how sincerely he meant it. "You're a lucky man."

Nagase nodded emphatically. "I am. I really am."

"Must be tough running the place by yourself," Kuroo observed, leaning against the counter. "How's your wife doing?"

Nagase's face fell. "Well, could be much worse," he said, and forced a chuckle. "If it hadn't been for the little one on the way, they probably wouldn't have spotted the tumour so soon."

The words took Kuroo by surprise. Nagase's wife looked younger than he was. It seemed impossible for someone his age to be ill with something so serious. 

Kuroo tried to find something to say and found his mouth was dry. He swallowed, brow creasing in sympathy. "Nagase—man, I'm so sorry for you both."

"Don't be," Nagase said, with a dismissive wave. "Really, we're lucky they found it early."

"I can't imagine," Kuroo said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, you probably don't wanna talk about it."

Nagase shrugged. "Honestly, sometimes it's easier to talk to someone who—who isn't really a friend, you know?" He winced. "Sorry, that—"

"No," Kuroo said quickly. "You're right. It is easier."

Silence stifled them for several moments. They glanced at one another, and away again with awkward smiles. 

"You know," Nagase said at last. "I don't mean to pry, but you've seemed kind of—off, the past couple of times I've seen you."

Kuroo let out a long sigh. "Yeah," he said at length. "I know. I'm sorry, if I was a jerk."

Nagase shrugged. "No problem. And hey, no pressure, but if you need to talk…"

"I dunno," Kuroo sighed, half-laughing. Nagase was quiet, watching him, and something compelled Kuroo to keep talking, a nervous bubbling in his chest that pushed more words out. "Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but...I don't think I'm very good at it. I can talk about other people's feelings, but when it comes to me...eh."

"Yeah, I hear that," Nagase said, nodding. He glanced around, seemingly lost in thought for several moments, before turning his attention back to Kuroo. "You used to play a sport, right?" he asked suddenly. "Basketball?"

Kuroo bristled, age old pride stirring in his chest. "Volleyball."

Nagase was nodding again, apparently ignorant of the slight he'd caused. "Right, and I bet when you started playing, you sucked."

"Thanks a lot," Kuroo said, rolling his eyes. 

"My point is," Nagase went on, determined to finish. "You practiced, and then you got better." He stood back, spreading his arms wide. "Maybe it's the same with talking about your feelings."

Kuroo wrinkled his nose. "It's not the same. If I sucked at volleyball, maybe I wouldn't have made the team, or we'd have lost a few matches. It's not the same as losing a friend."

Nagase raised an eyebrow at him. "Any friend in particular?" 

"It's not—" Kuroo began, and groaned in frustration. He ran his fingers through his hair. The back of his throat burned. "I just—I—"

"Hey now," Nagase said gently, his brow smoothing out as he shushed Kuroo gently. "Come and sit down, yeah? I'll get you some tea."

"No, really—" Kuroo muttered, wiping his face on his sleeve. "I don't wanna be any trouble."

Nagase took his shoulder and pushed him firmly into a chair. "No trouble. Just sit."

Kuroo sat, shoulders trembling. Just beyond his field of view he was aware of Nagase locking the door to the shop, and fetching things to make tea. A few minutes later he pressed a chipped mug into Kuroo's hands, and took a seat a metre or so away, watching him patiently. 

"I—don't really know where to start," Kuroo muttered, staring down at his tea. 

"Wherever's easiest," Nagase said evenly. 

Kuroo nodded. He took a deep breath, and then he began to talk. 

 

 

When Kuroo got home from Nagase's store, he put down the fresh food for Baron, and then stood and looked round his apartment. All of his dishes were dirty, stacked up in the sink, and the bags of trash had piled up again, exuding a bittersweet smell that had invaded the whole apartment.

"Right," Kuroo muttered to himself. "Enough."

He picked up a fresh garbage bag and began tidying his apartment. When he'd taken out all the trash, and emptied his fridge of expired food, he collected up all his clothes and the sheets off his bed, and took them down to the laundry room. 

He spent the rest of the afternoon tidying and cleaning his apartment. Baron watched the whole process, following him from room to room as though supervising his progress. Kuroo was halfway through washing the dishes in the sink when someone knocked on his door. Swearing, he quickly wiped his hands on his jeans and hurried to answer it. 

On the doorstep stood a middle aged woman with a little boy balanced on her hip. 

"Uh, hello," Kuroo said, puzzled. 

She gave him a harassed smile. "Sorry to bother you—are you Kuroo-san?"

He frowned. "Yes?"

"Oh, good," she said, exhaling softly. She bounced the baby on her hip. "Jun-chan, give Kuroo-san his postcard."

The boy frowned at Kuroo, then he stuck his hand out, proffering a slightly grubby, dogeared postcard. 

"It came to us by mistake," she said, hitching the baby up on her hip again. "We're one floor up."

"Thank you," Kuroo said, clutching the postcard tightly in his fingers. On the front was a picture of a nondescript building, with the word _Sendai_ underneath. "Uh—have a nice day."

She smiled at him. "Thank you, you too."

Kuroo stepped back inside, staring at the front of the postcard. He could only think of one person who would be sending him a postcard from Sendai. He went back into the kitchen, propped the postcard up against the kettle, and went back to washing the dishes. Although he didn't look at it, he was aware of the postcard at the corner of his vision, waiting to be picked up and turned over. 

When he was done with the dishes, he walked past the postcard and went to clean his bathroom. It took him almost an hour, by which point he was tired and achy, ready to stop. He forced himself to put fresh sheets on his bed, and to go down and retrieve his laundry. 

This finally done, he went into the kitchen and picked up the postcard. 

One corner was bent and folded over, and Kuroo carefully smoothed it out before taking a deep breath and turning it over.

_Kuro_  
_I know you've been trying to talk to me._  
_I've been an idiot. I ###################_  
_I don't want to apologise over a postcard but I should have told you sooner._  
_Anyway I know you'll be worrying, so don't. I'm fine._  
_Take care of yourself._  
_-K_

_P.S. give Baron a hug from me. You don't hug him enough._

Whatever Kenma had scribbled out was illegible. Kuroo read the message through several times, until the burning in his eyes overwhelmed him and he closed them as tears spilled down his cheeks. 

 

 

The next day dawned a little brighter. Kuroo woke early, but instead of dozing in bed, he got up and showered, before putting on his running clothes and heading down to the street. There was a park not too far from his apartment, and Kuroo jogged round it several times, occasionally slowing to catch his breath, letting his mind wander as he pounded the path with his old trainers. By the time he was done, the sun was fully up, and he was sweating profusely. He trudged home, stopping by the convenience store on the way to buy a protein shake and a piece of fruit. 

Over the next few days, he began to force himself into a routine; getting up early to jog despite the sweltering heat, eating at least one full meal every day, even if it was something he bought ready made; making the effort to text at least one of his friends. He didn't try again to get in touch with Kenma. It was enough to know where he was, and that he was safe. Thinking about him turned Kuroo's gut into a tangle of confused feelings, and he wasn't yet ready to look at it more closely. 

After a couple of weeks, he got a call from Yaku. 

At first Kuroo almost didn't answer, remembering the last time they'd talked, the agonising silence that had stretched out between them ever since they fought. It wasn't worth it, he realised. Yaku hadn't been wrong, and he'd never been the sort of person to spare someone's feelings. He pushed aside the last of his annoyance and picked up the phone.

"Yakkun, hey—sorry I've been so distant," Kuroo said quickly, hoping to stave off the rebuke he was no doubt about to receive. "How goes?"

_"You're coming to Kyoto next weekend."_

Kuroo laughed in surprise. "I am?"

 _"My birthday,"_ Yaku said. _"Me and Kai were thinking we'd have a guys' weekend. Stay in a guest house, drink some expensive whisky, eat until we burst. You in?"_

Kuroo considered for a few moments. He hadn't spent time with any of his friends in weeks. It was months since he'd seen Kai or Yaku. 

"You know what," he said, steeling his courage. "Yeah, I'd love to."

 _"Good,"_ Yaku said briskly. _"And listen, about before—"_

"Oh, Yakkun, it's okay—"

Yaku huffed. _"Do you want an apology or not?"_

"Fine," Kuroo said, laughing. "Sorry."

_"Alright then. I'm sorry for yelling at you. I know you've been having a hard time lately, and I hope I didn't add to that."_

Kuroo let out a heavy sigh. The apology lifted a weight off his chest that he hadn't even known was there, but as he breathed in again he was lighter, and he found himself smiling unexpectedly. "Nah. I mean—it didn't help, but I was making things worse for myself really."

_"Idiot."_

"Yeah," Kuroo agreed, laughing under his breath. "That's me." He closed his eyes, taking a breath to steady himself. "Hey, about next weekend."

_"...Yeah?"_

"Can we, uh. Skip the expensive whisky?" Kuroo clenched his fingers tightly around the edge of the couch cushion. "Just, I—I'm trying to drink less, and—I-I think it's better not to-to have the, uh—"

 _"Kuroo, it's fine,"_ Yaku said easily. _"Kai barely drinks anyway. It's not a problem."_

Kuroo sighed heavily. "Thanks." 

_"How're things going now? I saw you took your profile down."_

It was several seconds before Kuroo realised what Yaku meant. "The dating thing," he said, sitting down heavily on the couch. "Yeah."

 _"Yeah?"_ Yaku asked, his voice teasing. _"Does that mean you found someone to share your moments with?"_

Kuroo's stomach plummeted. His eyes stung. 

_"Kuroo?"_ Yaku asked, impatient. _"What, is it one of my exes?"_

Kuroo opened his mouth to reply. What came out wasn't what he'd expected. "I'm in love with Kenma."

The line was silent. At last, Yaku cleared his throat. _"Well, shit."_

"Yeah."

_"You love him?"_

Kuroo put his hand over his eyes, groaning softly. "Yakkun—"

_"Does he know?"_

"Yeah," Kuroo muttered, unable to help the edge of bitterness that crept into his weak laughter. "I'm pretty sure he knows."

Yaku sighed. _"Fuck. And—what about Kenma?"_

"What about him," Kuroo muttered. 

_"Idiot. I meant does he feel the same way?"_

"If he did, he wouldn't have run away."

_"I wouldn't bet on that."_

Kuroo groaned loudly. "Yakkun, I can't do this. I've _tried_ , okay? I can't _make_ him talk to me. The ball's on his side of the court now."

Yaku was quiet for several moments. When he finally spoke, he sounded tired. _"I'm sorry, Kuroo. For what it's worth, I think he'll come around, given enough time."_

"Yeah," Kuroo sighed. "Maybe. But how long am I supposed to wait?"

_"That depends. How long are you willing to give him?"_

Kuroo glanced across at the postcard Kenma had sent him. It was propped against a photo of them on his bookshelf, one that someone on the team had taken of them back in high school. They had their arms around each other, and Kenma was smiling, for perhaps the first and only time in a photograph. Kuroo's chest clenched horribly, and he took a shuddering breath. 

"I don't know."

 

 

A week later, with still no word from Kenma, Kuroo handed his keys over to Akaashi and caught the bullet train to Kyoto. He was painfully aware that every step, every kilometre travelled, took him further away from Kenma—assuming he was still in Miyagi as his postcard had implied. Kuroo's anxiety built as the journey dragged on, particularly when the train passed through Nagoya, but his panic eased when he stepped out of the ticket gate and saw Kai and Yaku already waiting for them. 

Kai greeted him with a warm hug, pulling him in close despite the sticky weather. It was almost a year since they'd last seen one another, and Kai had filled out a little, a soft thickness to him that was reassuring to be wrapped up in. Yaku must have been feeling sorry for him, because he hugged Kuroo afterward, squeezing him hard enough to hurt. His hand lingered on Kuroo's waist as they pulled away again, but to Kuroo's relief he didn't comment on his weight loss, just pulled back after a moment and punched him in the arm. 

"That's for ignoring us," he said, smirking up at Kuroo.

Kuroo laughed, clutching his arm. "Ow, Yakkun. Can't you just say you missed me like a normal person?"

"And give you all the power?" Yaku asked, rolling his eyes. "I think you're getting dumber in your old age."

"Get a new joke, Yakkun," Kuroo teased, easily falling back into old habits. "You've been using that one since we were sixteen."

"Come on, kids," Kai said, putting his arm around Kuroo's shoulders. "Miyu-chan's expecting us. She and the girls want to see you before we leave."

A warm smile broke over Kuroo's face. "Then we'd better get a move on. You know I hate to disappoint a lady," he said, and winked at Yaku.

Yaku looked unimpressed. "Maybe you should stop going to bed with them then."

Kuroo's mouth dropped open, and behind him Kai burst out laughing. "Yakkun!" he said, holding in his own amusement. "And after I forgave you for yelling at me."

"You deserved that," Yaku said, unrepentant. 

Kai was still laughing. "Are you two going to bicker the whole weekend?" he asked, wiping his eyes. 

"No," said Kuroo, at the same time as Yaku said "Yes."

Kai rolled his eyes. "And I thought I was getting a few days _away_ from the kids."

"That's your mistake," Yaku said, grinning. 

"We'll behave," Kuroo said solemnly. "I promise."

All of his anxieties drained away as Kai drove them first to his apartment where his wife and daughters were waiting to greet them, and then to the guest house they would be staying in. It was roughly an hour from the city, deep in the countryside, with picturesque hills blanketed by forest. A part of him missed the city, and he couldn't stop thinking of Kenma turning up in his absence and finding him gone, but he pushed it down. He'd been sitting around for weeks now, waiting, hoping that Kenma would show up, or that his phone would ring. All he had to show for it was the postcard from Kenma, and a lot of half-written letters he'd begun and then abandoned. 

"Hey," Yaku said, reaching forward to flick him on the ear. He'd reluctantly surrendered the front passenger seat to Kuroo on account of his long legs, and the fact that he hadn't complained about it once was enough to let Kuroo know that his friend was feeling sorry for him. "Wake up," Yaku said. "You're wallowing."

Kai laughed. "How can you tell that from the back of his head?"

"I can't," Yaku said. "It's his shoulders."

Instinctively, Kuroo hunched, glancing back at Yaku. "Stop analysing my shoulders."

"Stop sulking about Kenma."

Kai glanced in the rearview mirror. "Yaku—"

"It's fine," Kuroo said. He took a deep breath and sighed as he turned back to look out of the windscreen. "He's right. I don't want to dwell on something I can't change. I want to have a good weekend with my friends."

Yaku cheered. "That's more like it!" 

At last they arrived at the guest house, and Kuroo volunteered to carry in their bags to give Kai a rest after the drive. Yaku checked them in, and an elderly woman in a yukata showed them to their room. The large, wooden windows opened onto a neat, ordered garden below, which brought the scent of citrus trees, and a faint odour of chlorine.

"There's a pool?" Kuroo asked, glancing round.

"You bet there's a pool," Yaku said, grinning. He was uncharacteristically giddy, and Kuroo suddenly missed him with a fierceness that made his breath catch. 

Kuroo crossed the room in two strides and wrapped his arms tightly around Yaku. "Happy birthday, Yakkun," he murmured, pressing his face against Yaku's shoulder. 

"Kuroo—what the hell, let me go—!"

"No," Kuroo said stubbornly, though he relaxed his hold. "You're one of my best friends, and I hate fighting with you."

Yaku groaned, and reached up to hold him. "I know," he grumbled. "I hate it too."

Kuroo grinned. "And I'm one of your best friends."

Yaku's sigh was long-suffering. "And you're one of my best friends."

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat, then Kai spoke from the doorway. "Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?"

"Get in here," Yaku said, flapping his arms either side of Kuroo's chest. "I'm not hugging anyone twice."

Laughing, Kai crossed over to them and wrapped his arms around Kuroo from behind, enveloping both of them in a warm hug. Despite the summer heat outside, the room was well-ventilated and fairly cool, and being sandwiched between his two friends wasn't as stifling as he expected. Kuroo let himself relax into the embrace, squeezing Yaku tightly, aware that he probably wouldn't get away with it any other time. 

"Alright, alright," Yaku grumbled eventually, shaking them both off. "Let's get something to eat, I'm starving."

"We should go for a walk later," Kai mused, glancing out of the window. "Make the most of this weather."

Kuroo hummed in vague agreement, and after a moment realised that they were both staring at him, waiting for his opinion. "Oh," he said, smiling ruefully. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"You don't mind what we do?" Kai asked, watching him steadily.

Kuroo shrugged. He looked out of the window again, at the tidy garden and the dark green hills beyond. For the first time in weeks, maybe months, his head was quiet, the ache in his gut subdued. "Anything," he said, turning back to them with a genuine smile. "I'm just glad we're here."

 

 

The weekend with Kai and Yaku passed far too quickly. They took a couple of walks up into the hills, and visited a local festival on Saturday afternoon where Yaku ate his own bodyweight in local delicacies. Kuroo piggybacked him back to the guest house when they were done, eliciting only minor complaints from Yaku over the indignity of the gesture. 

It wasn't until late on Saturday night that Kuroo found his mind wandering again. Kai and Yaku were both sleeping, Yaku sprawled out like a starfish, and Kai curled up in a fetal position with his back to the window. Giving up on sleep, Kuroo got up from his futon and went over to the open window. A small wind chime hung from the frame, oscillating gently in the faint breeze. Something about the warm room, the sound of his friends sleeping nearby, made Kuroo think of training camps when they were younger. He missed Kenma suddenly, fiercely. Missed the heat of his body and the way he had kissed; missed his quiet humour, and the warmth in his smile when Kuroo made him laugh. 

His chest ached, but it wasn't like before. He could still breathe through the pain. He could still imagine tomorrow, next week, even next month, without Kenma in his life. The days looked dull and colourless, but he could see the shape of them. He knew that he could survive them.

Kuroo raised his arm and brushed his fingertips against the hanging chimes, making them jingle together softly. It wasn't loud enough to wake Kai or Yaku, but he imagined the sound carrying out across the garden, across the hills, into the wide, dark sky. He imagined them drifting all the way to Miyagi.

 

 

Back in Tokyo, Kuroo kept to his routine. He joined a local gym and added a couple of sessions a week to his repertoire of occasional jogs and regular meals. He stopped postponing appointments with his therapist. 

Two weeks before school was due to start again, Kuroo began planning his lessons for the next semester. He met Nita for coffee, and they talked about school, and the students they'd missed, the ones they were looking forward to seeing again. Things weren't as easy between them as they were at first, but they were better. 

When he got home, Kuroo put some rice in his cooker and cleaned up the mess in his kitchen. Afterward, he took a seat on the couch, and was immediately pinned down by Baron. Surrendering to his fate, Kuroo switched on the TV and let himself get lost in the mindless absurdity of a game show. After a while, his attention was caught by the flash of his phone screen, and he looked over in surprise. Kenma's contact details were flashing on the screen. 

Kuroo watched his phone ring. It lay just beyond his reach, but if he'd leaned over he could have grabbed it. The screen flashed twice more, and then went blank. He watched it, trying to identify the feeling in his chest. He felt oddly resigned. He hadn't picked up; Kenma wouldn't try again. That was that. 

But just as he tore his gaze away, the phone started to ring again. This time, Kuroo watched it until almost the last ring, and then he lunged across the couch, unseating a complaining Baron, and snatched up the phone. He caught it just before the call dropped, and brought it to his ear with shaking fingers.

"H-hello?"

A sigh of relief on the other end. _"Kuro. You picked up."_

Kuroo swallowed. "What do you want?"

 _"Kuro—"_ Kenma's voice was soft. _"I called to say I'm sorry."_

Anger swept through him. He knew that Kenma wasn't good at making apologies, but even so it felt like far too little, and far too late. "Fine," Kuroo said, gritting his teeth. "Is that all?"

Kenma cleared his throat. _"Do you hate me?"_

" _What_? I—" Kuroo got up from where he sat and crossed to the window. The sun was setting, spilling in through the glass as he looked out across the rooftops, orange light coating them like syrup. Kuroo took a deep breath, and let it out again in one long, shaky exhale. "Of course I don't hate you, Kenma," he sighed. "I just—I can't keep doing this. I don't even know where you are, or if you're okay—"

 _"I'm okay,"_ Kenma said quickly. Then, a little reproachfully. _"I told you I was okay."_

"You sent me a postcard, you little shit!" Kuroo said loudly, almost laughing in disbelief. "That doesn't count as telling, that barely even counts as communication."

 _"It counts,"_ Kenma muttered, stubbornly. 

Kuroo groaned and dropped his forehead against the window. "You're the worst."

A brief silence followed his words, and Kuroo began to panic. He hadn't meant to fall back into the same, comfortable rhythm with Kenma, but he'd done it without even thinking. Before he could take it back, or laugh it off, Kenma cleared his throat again softly.

_"I know."_

"Kenma—"

_"I'm sorry. For—what happened, and for leaving without talking to you. Or—or telling you where I was."_

Kuroo sank back, finding the edge of the coffee table and perching on the edge of it. "You're not sorry for leaving?"

Kenma made a soft, frustrated noise. _"It was the right thing to do. Just...not the best way to do it."_

"Alright then," Kuroo muttered, staring out at the changing colours of the sky above. "Thanks, I guess."

_"Yeah."_

"Where are you then?"

_"With Shouyou."_

"Ah." He'd guessed, but having the confirmation didn't make him feel better. 

_"How—how've you been?"_ Kenma asked when the silence stretched out between them.

Kuroo sighed. "Pretty awful at first. But now...better. I guess."

_"Mm?"_

"I started running every day," Kuroo said, turning to glance over his shoulder for Baron. "And I—I went away with Kai and Yakkun last weekend. We did a lot of hiking."

 _"That sounds great,"_ Kenma said, without a trace of irony. 

"Oh, you like hiking now?" Kuroo asked, smiling. "You should've said, we could've gone."

Kenma laughed, just a quiet snigger under his breath, but it made Kuroo's chest loosen immeasurably. _"Shut up,"_ Kenma said fondly. _"What else have you been doing?"_

For a moment, Kuroo considered shrugging off the question, pushing things back to the quiet, awkward distance they'd been at for so long. But he missed Kenma, and the sound of his voice on the other end of the phone made the ache that much stronger. So he kept talking, filling the empty air with nonsense about the mundane little things he'd been doing, the people he'd forced himself to talk to, things he'd seen and wanted to text Kenma about. Shadows stretched across his apartment as they talked, and the room slowly grew darker. 

Kuroo got up after a while to feed Baron, and then he put Kenma on speakerphone while he pulled on his shoes and grabbed his wallet and keys, and headed down to the street. Kenma talked about the cooler weather up in Miyagi, and told anecdotes about Hinata, and his little sister Natsu who had just started at Karasuno herself that Spring. 

_"Where are you now?"_ Kenma asked eventually, as Kuroo turned onto the path into the park near his house. _"The traffic noise isn't so bad."_

"Park," Kuroo said, reaching to tug his sleeves down over his hands. It wasn't really cold, but with the sun firmly set, the blistering heat of the day was finally beginning to fade. "Hey, can you see a lot of stars up there?"

Kenma made a low, curious sound. _"Stars?"_

Kuroo laughed. "You know, those twinkly lights in the sky?"

 _"It must have hurt you to say something so unscientific,"_ Kenma teased. There was a shuffling sound on his end, and then the low rumble of a sliding door being pulled open. 

"Well?" Kuroo pressed. "Can you see any?"

 _"Mm,"_ Kenma hummed. _"Remember the summer we went camping?"_

Kuroo laughed loudly. "Camping? Nope, doesn't ring a bell."

A soft huff of laughter answered him. _"It wasn't that bad."_

"No, no, the _camping_ was fine," Kuroo said, still giggling. "But _you_ were awful. I think that trip is the main reason I never wanted kids, you know. What if they'd turned out like you?"

 _"That's funny,"_ Kenma said, in a tone that clearly stated it was _not_.

The two of them fell into a comfortable silence. Kuroo found a bench and sat down beside the river, slouching down in his seat so he could look up at the sky. The sky was very clear, and he watched the passage of an aeroplane as it flew far overhead, red lights flashing. Light pollution from the city turned the whole sky a dull, muddy colour, but as Kuroo stared up at the broad, grubby expanse of it, odd stars began to resolve themselves against the darkness. 

_"Do you see anything?"_ Kenma asked, his voice rough in Kuroo's ear. 

Kuroo closed his eyes, focusing on the faint sound of Kenma breathing. "Yeah," he murmured. With his eyes shut, he imagined that Kenma was sitting next to him, close enough to touch. "It's beautiful."

_"Kuro."_

"Mm?"

Kenma made a soft noise. _"Never mind. I'm glad you answered the phone."_

Kuroo smiled. "Me too."

They sat together in silence for several minutes, listening to the sound of each other breathing. Kuroo kept his eyes closed, picturing Kenma beside him.

"You know I hate when things get sappy," Kenma said eventually, breaking the silence. _"But I just—I want you to know that I really hated not having you in my life. Back then, I thought I had to cut myself off from everyone, to get better, but—"_ He broke off, drawing in a sharp breath. _"C-cutting you out—it was the h-hardest thing—I-I don't want to d-do it again."_

Kuroo's throat burned, raw and tight. "Kenma," he sighed. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, okay?"

Kenma laughed weakly. _"Okay."_

"I should head home," Kuroo murmured, looking around him. A light breeze had picked up, and he shivered. "Baron's probably lonely."

_"I miss him."_

Kuroo bit his cheek.

Then, as if Kenma had known what he was thinking, he added softly, _"I miss you too, Kuro."_

The backs of Kuroo's eyes burned. "When are you coming home?"

Kenma was quiet for a moment. _"When do you want me there?"_

Kuroo laughed wetly, and reached up to wipe his cheek on his sleeve. "Now," he said thickly. "All the time."

 _"Oh,"_ Kenma sighed softly. _"Really?"_

" _Yes_ really," Kuroo said, laughing again. "Come home, Kenma."

Kenma made a low, uncertain sound. _"I can't just—I know that—"_ He broke off, frustrated, and tried again. _"I want to make things up to you. I—I don't expect anything, but—"_

"It's okay," Kuroo said softly. He turned his face up to the sky again, and his eyes fell on one star burning brightly. It flickered as he watched, the light pulsing faintly. "Just come home," he said, holding the phone close to his ear. "The rest can wait."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for sticking with me. It's been a hell of a year.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://notallballs.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/notallbees) | [my kuroken fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=2607015&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=0&commit=Sort+and+Filter&user_id=notallbees)


End file.
